At the end of the Tang Dynasty, it was a feudal town, but in Western Europe

"Okay." Marovinus walked to the front of the stage enthusiastically, "Everyone, I have summoned you here. I think everyone already knows what is going on. It is the collusion of Priest Kelvin!"

The church was quiet for half a second, and then the loud noise of discussion almost lifted the roof of the church.

Patting his palms with papyrus, Marovinus looked at Zhenhui playfully and said, "Kelvin, do you want to confess your sins?"

"Of course I have to confess to the Heavenly Father the sins I have committed, but the sins I said are not the same as the sins you said." Zhenhui replied calmly.

"You heretic, do you still want to speak hard?" Marovinus smiled disdainfully, and unfolded the scroll in his hand, "I ask you, you went to the cemetery on April 28 to meet the spies sent by the robbers, We exchanged information, didn't we?"

"April 28?" Zhenhui frowned.

The monk Felix next to him reminded, "That's the day you taught me about Heavenly Father and the stone."

"Oh, I have a little impression." Zhenhui raised his head, looked at the archbishop standing in front of the altar with a face as calm as water, and said, "The other day I went to the cemetery to pray for a farmer's relative, and I saw a father mourning for his daughter who died young, so I proclaimed the gospel of the heavenly father to him. Is this the connection you said?"

"Ha!" Marovinus called to the crowd, "Moshman! Tell everyone what you saw that day?"

A young priest walked out of the crowd, saluted around, and said: "I saw Priest Kelvin chatting with a stranger that day. Although I couldn't hear their conversation clearly, that stranger should have come to mourn him. It belonged to my daughter, but the one buried in the unmarked tombstone is a drowned priest, we can’t be sure who he is, so we can only bury it first, and engrave the monument after finding out.”

"Did you hear that? Kelvin, what did you say to a man pretending to worship?"

"I don't know who he is, but I can see his sadness. Maybe he is just a confused father who got the tombstone wrong. I have seen this kind of person more than once in the countryside." Zhenhui's expression remained the same. calm.

"Still ↑↓talking ↑hard→."

Marovinus took out a piece of parchment and handed it to several elders and elderly priests nearby.

The parchment was passed among the elders, and they all showed a look of astonishment after checking it out, and Fields couldn't wait to stick his eyeballs on the parchment.

When the parchment was passed to the archbishop, he shook his head, indicating that he had seen it, and told them to return the parchment to Marovinus.

Marovinus dusted the parchment and placed it two meters away from Zhenhui: "How about it, does it look familiar? This is the contract you signed with the local Frisian bandits. This contract is so wonderful. Listen Listen, my friends, listen!

At the end of June, the Frisian bandits will sneak into the church pretending to be pilgrims, join forces with the wise and rude Seris soldiers, and open the door from the inside...

Oh, it also said that they will pretend to be defeated by Zhenhui, so that Zhenhui can become the Archbishop of Bremen, what a fantasy!

At the very bottom of the contract, there is another signature, tsk, this beautiful and familiar curlicue is exactly the same as Kelvin's signature we retrieved from the archives!

The witnesses and material evidence are all there, and the evidence is conclusive!Kelvin, what else do you want to say? "

Before Zhenhui could speak, the monks next to him started making noise. They were either unbelieving, angry, or eager to get to the front to check the contract and letter.

"Quiet!" The archbishop who seemed to be dozing off suddenly yelled. In an instant, the entire hall fell silent. They were waiting for the man who built the cathedral from scratch, waiting for his words.

"Kelvin, do you have anything to say?"

"Yes." Zhenhui nodded, and pointed to the document with his chin, "Where did you get this so-called evidence?"

Marovinus said with a half-smile: "You don't care where it comes from, the evidence is solid, can the signature be forged?"

"Just tell me where it came from?"

"Hmph." Sensing the scorching gaze of the Archbishop behind him, Marovinus said, "A farmer got it from a corpse, and he gave it to my apprentice Polula."

"In this case, why is the parchment so clean, without any smell or blood?"

"Oh, what bloody smell do you want? Look here, your signature, it can't be truer."

"Does the signature have to be real?"

Marovinus seemed to have heard the big joke: "Stop dying, can there be fake signatures?"

Zhenhui turned her head and looked at the archbishop calmly: "Can I go back and get something?"

The archbishop said in a deep voice, "Yes, but you can't go by yourself."

Fields volunteered, "I'll get it for you."

Soon, Fields moved a small box, and he put the small box in front of Zhenhui. Zhenhui rummaged through the box for a while, took out a piece of parchment, and handed it to Fields.

Fields didn't know why, so he started to read, but the more he read, his eyes widened, clutching the parchment, Fields avoided Marovinus's hand, and handed the parchment to the Archbishop.

Chapter 54 Conversion to Odin

The archbishop didn't know why, so he took the parchment.

The moment his eyes touched the parchment, he unconsciously moved his head closer to the parchment, and then, frowning, he slowly moved away.

At the end, everyone saw a strange expression on the archbishop's face that they had never seen before. It was an expression that seemed amused, angry, and surprised.

The archbishop handed the parchment to the elders next to him, and the elders whispered to each other under the inexplicable eyes of everyone. Soon one elder left the scene, and he returned with another parchment soon after.

The two parchments were passed back and forth amidst the clicks of the elders, neither Marovinus nor the monks below were at a loss.

Taking the parchment from the hands of the elders, Fields passed Marovinus. He looked around at the monks around him, slowly unfolded the parchment, and chanted loudly in front of everyone:

"Odin, I, Marovinus, sign this contract with the great Viking leader Glol..."

Marovinus' eyes widened.

"...I will open the gates of Bremen on the night of May 25, and let Glore's army enter and loot wantonly..."

"...If Glore can help me and take advantage of the chaos to kill Archbishop Willhard, I am willing to give half of the church's income to Glore every year, and at the same time convert to Odin..."

"Lie! It's a lie!" Marovinus couldn't listen anymore. His face was like a boiled prawn, and there was even a blue-like black in the red. On his temple, the blue veins were beating at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Marovinus rushed up and tried to snatch the parchment from Fields, but Fields easily dodged it. He raised the parchment and said, "This is your autograph on it, which is important physical evidence. You You can only view it from a distance, back off!"

Looking at the tall and burly Fields, the thin Marovinus had to stand far away, and carefully read the brief contract on the parchment, and the moment he saw the text clearly, he seemed to be thrown into the water. Suddenly, the entire complexion instantly changed from red to blue-black and then to pale again.

He read and compared the signature on the parchment repeatedly, and he was sure that he did not sign anything on this parchment.

"This, this..." Marovinus repeated it more than a dozen times like a tape recorder stuck.

Archbishop Willehard had a rare smile on his serious face: "Marovinus, please explain."

"This, this, this is..." Marovinus gasped for breath. He pulled his hair, looked around at the elders and monks, and finally his gaze focused on Zhenhui.

Suddenly, he rushed towards Zhenhui and grabbed Zhenhui's collar: "You, you slandered me, you forged the document!"

"Let go!" Under the command of Fields, several strong monks pulled Marovinus away.

Marovinus was sandwiched between two monks, his feet were kicking on the ground, and his trembling fingers were still pointing at Zhenhui: "Slander! He is slandering me, he is slandering me!"

"Didn't you say that the signature can no longer be authentic? How can you forge it when it's your turn? How do you explain it?" Zhenhui stood up, pinched the top of the document, and showed it to Marovinus, the document The writing on it was like a red-hot iron, stinging Arovinus' eyes.

"You Marovinus went to the countryside to pray and talk a lot with people, right? I can casually call out a dozen witnesses who saw you talking with ordinary Franks!" Zhenhui said loudly, "So I can also count you as witnesses and evidence?"

"You, where did you come from?" Marovinus roared hysterically.

Zhenhui exhaled two breaths from his nose: "How did you get it, that's how I got it.

But unlike you, I checked the blood and smell on the document, and took people to the place the farmer said to search, but there were no corpses, and what about the farmer?I searched five nearby villages, and they all said that there was no such person.

Why do I have to go to such trouble?Um?Why didn't I go directly to the archbishop and hand over the paperwork like you did?Because although you and I do not get along because of scriptures and righteousness, I firmly believe in your character and your devotion to the heavenly father! "

Zhenhui let out a long breath, and he took two steps back: "You broke my heart."

"But, but, this, this signature..." Marovinus gasped for breath without saying a few words, "This, this is impossible, I can't figure it out!"

"Can't figure it out? Of course you can't figure it out. You should think about why you are so stupid! In front of an unverified letter, you actually choose to believe it instead of investigating it!" Zhenhui hit Marovinus on the head with a series of rapid Latin words, knocking him almost unconscious.

"Why don't you think about it, why a Frisian bandit can write such fluent Latin? Should you believe in an unverified false contract made with poor means, or should you believe in the loyalty of your church members!"

"Kelvin, do you know what this contract is about?" the archbishop interrupted Zhenhui's words.

Zhenhui bowed to the archbishop solemnly: "After I found this letter, I have been thinking about the reason behind it. I finally figured it out a few days ago. In fact, the principle is very simple. It is a method used by clowns, magicians and liars to deceive."

He turned around and took out a quill pen and a small pot of ink from the box, and said to Marovinus: "Listen clearly, don't be deceived again, it's a small matter for you to be deceived, and the black hand behind the scenes really provoked our internal strife, you are the biggest sinner!"

As he spoke, Zhenhui handed the quill and ink to the Archbishop: "Archbishop Willerhard, do you know about cuttlefish? The cuttlefish is an animal that can produce a strange black ink. Writing with this ink is no different from normal ink for a short time, but after a long time, the handwriting will slowly disappear. This behind-the-scenes manipulator took advantage of this principle.

He must have mixed documents written with cuttlefish ink among ordinary documents, and then took them away after Marovinus and I signed on them, and then wrote on them by himself after the ink disappeared. It was a very simple method.

This kind of parchment contract is very valuable, and it is basically a land deed. As long as we check the land deed, we will know. "

"Since you already know what's going on, why don't you check it?" the Archbishop frowned and asked.

"Archbishop, one is that I was kidnapped by Elder Marovinus before I had time to check, and the other is that if someone really did these things, it means that one of us has a Juda, and a Traitor!" Zhenhui looked at the attendant monks, "I don't want to make things big and make everyone panic. At the same time, I'm also afraid that if I go to check, I will scare the snake away and scare the traitor away, so... But, let's talk about it now. It's all useless now that everyone knows..."

Amidst the terrified glances of the monks, the discussion became louder and more chaotic, but the accusations against Marovinus gradually became unified.

"Marovinus, look at what you've done!" Fields cursed at the limp Marovinus.

"I, I..." Marovinus stared at Fields, but couldn't say anything.

"Okay! What a farce!" Archbishop Willhard stood up and looked around at the monks. "Why are you still here? Get out."

As the monks left one after another, the entire hall finally fell silent. Archbishop Willhard walked from the side of the altar to Marovinus, and delivered the final sentence: "Marovinus, I once placed my best wishes on you. High hopes."

"I……"

"From today onwards, you will suspend all lectures, and you must go to confess every day, and you must not leave Bremen for half a step. I will temporarily lower your teaching rank and restore it when you truly repent."

Marovinus fell to the ground limply like a puddle of mud. He stared blankly at the relief on the marble pillar, his tongue stiffened, and his body trembled slightly.

He didn't understand, he didn't understand what was going on?This was supposed to be his lore against Zhenhui, why did it become like this?

Finally, when Archbishop Willerhard patted Zhenhui on the shoulder and said, "I'm not in good health, you need to work harder", Marovinus passed out.

Chapter 55 I(TM) Come Spicy!

Gray-green zander hopped in tawny nets.

The bow of the fishing boat broke through the rolling river waves, and the broad Weser River was glowing with silver waves. The smell of aquatic plants and fish was diluted by the spring breeze blowing in the face, and there was a little strange fragrance.

Clodagh put away the fishing net, and a dozen fat perch were struggling and bouncing in the fishing net. It was so good, Crodagh couldn't help but sigh, such a fat fish, at least the food for the next week would be available up.

Looking at the quiet Weser River, Croda thought of the Rhine River in his hometown. Since he left five years ago, he never went back.The cold summer of five years seemed to be a warning from the Heavenly Father. Since that summer, smallpox had flooded first, followed by floods and droughts, plus the desertion of the land caused by the southern conquest of Iberia, and a large-scale famine broke out in the Frankish country.

At that time, Croda came to Bremen from his hometown under the recruitment of Archbishop Willerhard and began to settle here.

Although there are no floods and smallpox here, there are still Frisian bandits, Saxon rebels, and those Frankish bandits who came here. They often go to the countryside to plunder, disturbing people's peace.

However, since the arrival of Father Kelvin, everything has become better, the rebels have been suppressed, the bandits have been captured, and the Frisian robbers are rare.

That's great, Croda clenched his fists, the one from the Roda's house next door has been elected to the militia, and I have to work harder.

Throwing all the fish in the fishing net into the fishing basket, Croda naturally turned around and threw the fishing net out, but halfway through the throw, his originally smooth movements seemed to have been immobilized, and he remained motionless.

Covering the sky with red sails, foaming water, densely packed prows, and both sides of the long and narrow hull are covered with colorful round shields.

Clodagh felt countless heavy drums and bells ringing in his ears, and he didn't react for a while. He opened his mouth wide and watched the Viking warship sailing towards him, and then frantically rowed the wooden oars on the boat as if he had just woken up from a dream.

But how can human power compare to sailing?

Although Clodagh tried his best to frantically shake the galleys, the Viking warship behind him was still getting closer and closer.

"Pirates of Norse!"

On the quiet river, Croda shouted loudly into the distance. He only hoped that this quiet Weser River would be a little quieter, so quiet that his voice could travel thousands of kilometers and reach the village.

But before Clodagh yelled a second time, his boat suddenly shook violently, a pair of thick hands in leather gloves grabbed the edge of the boat, and a wet, one-eyed man with long Viking braids climbed onto the boat from the water.

"North..."

Why, why can't I shout out?

Clodagh covered his throat with his hands, trying to block the air that came out of his throat with his hands, but the blood and the air in his lungs escaped uncontrollably from between his fingers.

He fell heavily on the fishing rod, and countless zander and perch jumped out of the fishing rod, bouncing and jumping on the boat, blood seeped into the water along the wooden boat's cracks, and stretched out in the river. There is a faint red line.

Croda looked up at the fishing village where he lived, that was his last wish.

But it is a pity that the Norse's way of action is to capture a village on land, and then use the village as a base to call for more Norse to come. This is the way the Vikings plundered.

The innocent farmer fell heavily to the ground, and the Viking from Scandinavia drew his ancestral dagger from his back, blood stained the soil, and screams ensued.

Roaring, begging for mercy, crackling of flames, cocks crowing, dogs barking, women and children crying.

In the once quiet and peaceful fishing village, Frankish civilians ran wildly between the houses and fields. Behind them, groups of Viking warriors in black wolf and bear skins chased after them, waving their axes and fighting with each other. long sword.

The air was full of burning smell, and the raging fire was like spring flowers, blooming one after another among the houses in the village.

"Yo, they actually have a 'castle'." The one-eyed Glore stepped on a child's neck with an armed sword in his hand, and squinted at the house surrounded by fences and wooden walls.

Behind the fence, more than 20 young men held spears, trembling but staring at them with anger and hatred.

"Olaf! Give them the whole hell!"

"Fuck, let's go, ignore!" Olaf led a dozen Viking warriors, and rushed towards the wall while making strange battle roars.

A dozen or so javelins were thrown from behind the wall and fell towards the Viking warriors, but unfortunately, most of them were blocked by the round shields of the skilled Vikings, and only one person was stabbed Foot, but not seriously injured.