Mount and Blade Central Asia

As a last resort, Hiltberg could only ask people along the way if they had beans soaked in salt water.

But he learned the habit of feeding horses with beans soaked in salt water from the Mongolians. The beans are not available in this place at the moment, and it would be too late to soak them even if he bought them.

However, his horse had a good nose and suddenly stopped in the middle of the street, then dragged him in one direction. In that direction, an Arab was feeding the horse with soaked beans.

Hiltberg flicked the horse's head and gave him a look of "you are so good", then he straightened his clothes and walked forward, asking politely: "Hello, how about these beans?"

Can you sell it to me?"

Pepper Horse, who was unloading goods at a nearby stall, heard Hilterberg's question and enthusiastically took up the topic, believing that even the smallest mosquito is meat. "Sir, are you also looking to feed your horses? This is a secret Mongolian recipe, and everyone who has used it says it's good. You have a good eye."

"It's rare to meet someone who knows the business. I wonder if he can..." Hiltberg learned how to fight on the battlefield and how to be tactful in the court. He knew how to tell one thing to one person and another thing to another. He pointed at the bag of soybeans and took out the purse directly, as if telling you to name your price.

He had no intention of arguing with this small vendor, and a bag of beans was not worth much, so he quickly got rid of him so that he could find a place to settle down.

"Look at what you said. I could have just given you this little thing, but we just arrived in Mosul and we are open for business. It would not have a good intention to give it away for free, so please give me a copper coin as a token of your appreciation." Pepper Mali saw that although the other party was exhausted, the saddle on his horse and the long sword at his waist were all top-quality goods, so he just wanted his safety.

"That's great. May Allah witness your generosity." Hiltberg, who had nominally believed in the belief for more than ten years, spoke nicely while handing over a copper coin, which was the money in the wallet he had snatched from the Black Sheep Man.

"We have top-quality goods here. Would you like to take a look at something else?" Pepper Mali flicked his finger, and the copper coin disappeared into his sleeve. He then introduced his dazzling array of goods. "This is our first time in Mosul. Everything is on sale. Buy one and get 10% off. Buy two or more and get 20% off!"

"This is a dagger made in Damascus, and this is a cigarette holder made in Genoa. They are all good things that can't be found anywhere else!" Pepper Mali's words were true, because many of these things were indeed purchased by him from the Genoese.

The members of the Golden Arrow Mercenary Group left in a hurry, and the ship's carrying capacity was very limited. Many people sold their belongings at a low price and exchanged them for cash when they left.

At that time, Hujiao Mali had the gold given by Mr. Li to buy horse bones, and he collected a lot of good goods.

Hiltberg was indeed attracted by this. He picked up a finger guard commonly used by Genoese crossbowmen and gestured on his hand: "How much is this?"

He was good at using the bow, crossbow, lance, saber and sword, but now he was alone outside, and having a crossbow with him would make him feel much safer.

Pepper Mali casually quoted a price three times the purchase price, and Hiltberg didn't even bargain, but just threw the corresponding amount of money over.

"Customer, please wait a minute, I'll give you a discount!" Pepper Mali calculated the extent of the discount in his mind. Even though he had practiced for a long time, it still took time.

"No, I'm too lazy. I'm leaving!" Hiltberg waved his hand casually. After more than a decade in the military, he was considered half a noble. He was in a state where he didn't have much money, but he had plenty of small change. There was no need to worry about a few copper coins.

He followed the Ming Dynasty envoys around every day to try to get close to them.

It's a pity that Samarkand is no longer the same Samarkand. In pursuit of art, Ostad traveled through many cities and visited many scholars and painters. He had been a guest in Baghdad some time ago. After receiving Li Rufeng's letter, he had time to come here to earn some travel expenses.

When he first saw Aleppo, Ostad did not think there was anything worth painting about the city. If it were not for the large amount of money given by the lord, he would probably have turned around and left.

But when he actually saw the lord, Ostad was puzzled. Is that a Ming Dynasty man? Am I seeing this right?

"Sir, are you from the Ming Dynasty?" When Ostad spoke the Ming Dynasty version of Mandarin to Li Rufeng in a thick accent, he didn't understand at all.

The official language of the Ming Dynasty was the Jianghuai sub-dialect. Strictly speaking, although there are some differences in pronunciation from the later Mandarin, it is definitely not incomprehensible.

The main reason was that Li Rufeng's brain had become accustomed to the language environment here over the past three years and was not prepared to listen to Chinese. In addition, Ostad's accent was heavy, so he didn't understand a word.

Ostad had to ask again in Chagatai. This time it was Li Rufeng's turn to be surprised. He asked in Mandarin, "Can you speak Mandarin?"

"A little bit." Ostad extended his hand with classic foreign modesty and made a small gesture. Then he asked curiously, "Are you really from Ming Dynasty? How did you get here?"

"We'll talk about it later. Let's prepare for the ceremony first." Li Rufeng smiled mysteriously at the other party, then waved to the workers in the distance, and the workers immediately began to break the dam.

A dozen strong men began to dig downwards in the center of the earth dam. Most of the soil and rocks here had already been dug away. In just a few minutes, the water from the Kuvik River flowed in from the gap.

The workers evacuated the scene calmly, and then as the river water continued to wash the gap, the gap became larger and larger, and in the blink of an eye the water flow became turbulent.

Li Rufeng and Ais Baker stood on the watchtower and watched the surging water rushing towards them. Although it was not as spectacular as the sea, the unstoppable momentum was still refreshing.

"From today on, Aleppo will embark on a new journey. I cannot promise wealth and glory to each of you, that is a deceptive plan, but I promise that the days to come will get better and better, and famine will become a thing of the past!" Li Rufeng looked at the moat water rushing through Aleppo's unique long staircase hanging high above the moat, and made an impassioned speech.

Ostad held a drawing board with a piece of paper fixed on it, and wrote and drew, leaving behind some meaningless lines. It took him several months to create a painting, and most of the final substantial content came from the painter's memory and imagination. These lines were not so much line drafts as a record of inspiration.

Moreover, compared to creating this painting, Ostad was more interested in this lord.

Then he couldn't wait to open the city management interface——

【City——Aleppo

Governor-General Li Rufeng

Settlement tax: 0/month

Prosperity: 1522

Security: 92

Loyalty: 58]

In addition, there are options such as food and number of garrisons, which allow Li Rufeng to see the current situation of Aleppo more intuitively.

Below the town management interface are the town buildings currently owned by Aleppo, from high to low:

Level III city defense fortifications, Level II open-air markets, Level I granaries, squares, and canals.

Other buildings that are not yet owned are garrison barracks, militia barracks, markets, training grounds, workshops, siege workshops, etc.

In addition to these buildings, Li Rufeng can also choose to let the town enter five daily states in the town management interface, namely town development, military development, agricultural development, commercial development, and festival celebrations.

On the construction interface, it was showing that a level I workshop was under construction, and the progress bar had reached 83%, but it did not show how many days it would take to be completed. The system's introduction to the workshop was: providing the necessary tools for the construction and maintenance of buildings, and providing a bonus to the speed of project progress.

Li Rufeng can also focus on these options, and the system will display more information about this data, such as the eye-catching daily tax amount of 0, and there are many addition and subtraction options in the detailed data.

The most important factor affecting the amount of tax is prosperity. The prosperity of Aleppo in 1522 should have provided a tax base of 304 dinars per month, but a clear policy of tax exemption for lords reduced these numbers to zero.

I actually have a good impression of the tall knight in front of me, especially when they were dodging those black-robed men together, they had a special tacit understanding.

"I don't know what that group of people is doing. When I first entered the city, the black sheep people told me not to provoke them." Pepper Mali took a sip of fish soup, took out a small wooden bottle from his pocket, and added some pepper into it.

He has been in the pepper business for many years and is used to the smell. These small business owners are generally reluctant to put any spices in the soup, and Marinus can't get used to it at all.

"What's that? Give me some." Hiltberg was not shy and reached out for it. "Pepper? No, there's something else in it. It tastes really good."

If he hadn't maintained an extremely open attitude towards food over the years, his life would have been very difficult. He can be considered a half-travel gourmet.

"Good nose! I put three other spices in it, and each of them is a match that I tried many times before finding." Pepper Mali said with some pride.

Although he has been running a small business over the years, it has always been very stable, relying on his method of combining and complementing spices. Anyone who has bought his spices will most likely buy his goods again next time, and others will only have a chance if he lowers the price by 10%.

But if Marinus's profit was even lower by 10%, there would be no profit at all in this small business.

Hiltberg wasn't going to eat for free. He took his wooden bowl and sat at the next table. He called out to the owner, "Why is their fish soup so much richer than mine? Give me the same!"

The boss of a small business in his own backyard is not a fool. With Hiltberg's conspicuous face, how could he not remember that the two men came together? But Hiltberg not only has a conspicuous face, but is also a tall, strong and dignified knight.

The boss wisely chose to play dumb because of the unruly aura of murderousness and nobility that was forged through years of experience on the battlefield and in the palace. He pretended to see the two of them for the first time, twisted his nose and asked Pepper Mali what he added to the soup, then paid for a small bottle of Pepper Mali's homemade mixed spices.

"Next time, you might as well just put the sword on his neck. That way you can make money faster." Pepper Mali couldn't help laughing as he said this. He felt that his business had finally grown bigger. He had never met such an interesting person when he was traveling around the countryside before.

"Who is the lord of Aleppo now? I remember a few years ago, weren't you..." Hiltberg asked casually. He naturally knew what happened at that time.

When Timur massacred Aleppo, he was still Suleiman's close attendant.

"Yes... Lord Ais Baker." Pepper Mali almost let it slip, but quickly added, "Lord Baker is a good lord. He is... kind, gentle, and generous..."

Pepper Mali couldn't think of any other words to describe Ais Baker. After all, they were not familiar with each other and had only met a few times.

The focal point of the fan was illuminated by candlelight, and those slaves whose appearance was outstanding enough to be auctioned would stand under the candlelight one by one, allowing their potential masters to look at them.

This design can minimize possible conflicts between buyers and is very clever.

Hiltberg had been to such occasions many times when he was in Samarkand. He put on his hood as if he was familiar with the place, found an empty compartment and sat down. Soon today's warm-up activities began.

This form of interspersing performances during auctions itself originated from Samarkand. Even though the King of Inner Asia only focused on his own little world, his influence still spread everywhere.

It can be said that in the past twenty years, Samarkand has been the weather vane of the entire Central Asian region. What is popular there will inevitably become the most sought-after things in other cities within a few years.

For example, this small auction is small but has all the necessary facilities.

Several dwarfs and scantily clad women performed a farce together. The guests laughed as they watched the women kick the dwarfs and make them roll on the ground. The organizers immediately had the maids serve wine to each table.

Mosul is still nominally a ban on alcohol, and a slave trading place like this could have been openly opened if it had not secretly supplied alcohol.

But many times humans just like this dark tone, and Hiltberg is no exception.

He didn't know whether the nobles in his hometown also indulged in such extravagant activities, but both the Ottomans and the Timurids had opened Hiltberg's eyes to the art of pleasure.

He thought that if he returned home in the future, he might be able to make a living just by working in the entertainment industry.

A girl who looked only eleven or twelve years old walked cautiously to Hiltberg with two jugs of wine in her hands. She looked at him with her big, smart eyes and expressed her meaning with just her eyes: Do you need some wine?

Hiltberg took one of the pots from the girl. The girl held up a finger, and he took out two silver coins from his pocket and threw them to the girl: "What's your name?"

The girl opened her mouth, showed him her tongue which had only one-third left, and shook her head dejectedly.

Hiltberg sighed and said nothing, but threw another silver coin to the other party and took away the other pot of wine.

This kind of mute slave is quite common. After all, there are always some noble people who should not come to this place. In order to prevent people from gossiping, the operators simply use illiterate mute slaves to provide services to avoid trouble in the future.

Generally, these mute slaves are trained when they are seven or eight years old, and they generally do not have a good ending.

A buyer.

Hiltberg came here to have fun, so he naturally didn't care, but others obviously didn't have such a good attitude. After another Armenian slave girl he liked was bought, someone finally couldn't sit still.

An obese man kicked over the table and roared drunkenly, "Isabel, I see you don't want to do this business anymore! Are you trying to tempt me by asking someone to bid the price? Is this the good stuff you were talking about?"

"Sir, don't be angry, it's all a misunderstanding! The buyer today is...is..." The auctioneer looked in the other direction anxiously, as if he didn't dare to say the other person's name.

But looking at the obese man in front of him, he could only lean closer and whisper, "It's someone from the Wizarding Society... I don't even know if I can get the money, so let's just bear with it."

Hearing the words "Wizards' Association", the obese man half sobered up, but the commotion just now was too loud. If he was frightened by a name, who would take him seriously in the future... So he could only force himself to mutter: "Don't think I'm afraid of you. This time, considering your contributions to the Khanate, I won't argue with you..."

"Don't bother to see what's going on. We are still short of twenty-seven people today. I don't think we have enough slaves. Everyone here should stay. Come with us to feel the wisdom of the blue wind." A man in a black robe said in a sharp voice, and his tone sounded almost the same emphasis as the eunuch just now.

"Sir, please stop joking. I will fill in the gaps for you no matter how many people are missing. This is no joke!" Isabelle was sweating profusely as she comforted the man in black robe.

At this time, Hiltberg had already begun to retreat quietly. He couldn't afford to offend these men in black robes, nor did he want to offend them.

"Time is running out. We need some noble blood. We've finally managed to gather a bunch of losers like you together. How can we just let it go?" The black-robed man said with a smile, "Wake up, let's continue the auction. Name a price for these gentlemen and see if I can afford it."

Chapter 242: Homecoming

Pepper Mali was sleeping soundly in the small hotel rented by the caravan when he suddenly heard some tiny noises coming from outside the window. He immediately sat up alertly and touched the dagger under the pillow.

As a small businessman who has been working on his own for many years, he has experienced many times the treacherous nature of human nature. If he had not been vigilant, he would have died long ago.

He got out of bed quietly and walked to the window. No matter who was outside, he would be warmly welcomed when he came in.

At the same time, Marinus was secretly cursing himself that he might as well throw the money he spent on the hotel into the river. It was because they had a lot of goods this time that they chose to stay in the hotel, otherwise he would usually sleep with the horse. As a result, who would have thought that he would encounter such a problem after spending money.

I also know there is a problem with the gate.

So Hiltberg slipped back into the room and tried to find a window to leave.

However, in order to ensure privacy, the windows were nailed shut. At the critical moment, the mute girl hooked her finger at him in the corner, took him all the way into the kitchen, and ran out through the back door.

However, the girl was not able to escape with him in the end, and the black-robed man even arranged archers outside the wall...

Hiltberg was hit by an arrow in the waist, and the girl was hit by an arrow in the head and died on the spot.

He was riding a horse, and his old friend took him around the city for a short while until the bleeding from his wound was stopped by the bandage. Only then did Hiltberg go alone to find the caravan from Aleppo for help.

Fortunately, he was still alive, and so was his horse.

The beast was now following a mare pulling a cart, showing off its stature in a haughty manner.

"How many days was I unconscious?" Hiltberg asked, feeling his stomach was empty.

"It's been two days. I don't know if your intestines are ruptured, so I can only give you water." Pepper Mali looked at Hiltberg with a grim expression and asked, "What exactly happened in the city?"

He still remembered how he had hurried to the city gate early in the morning, dragging some unsold goods and a wounded soldier. The gatekeeper was still the Black Sheep soldier who had been paid. He still tried to please him and stuffed him with money. But before he could say anything, a knight in black ran over and shouted, "Close the city gate! From now on, no one is allowed to enter or leave!"

The Black Sheep soldier put the silver coins into his pocket without even checking the items on the carriage. His face changed and he whispered, "You're so lucky! Hurry and leave!"

Pepper Mali was a man who had seen the world. He immediately continued on his way without looking back. As the city gates behind him closed, the city seemed to have been paused and suddenly became silent.

"I don't know. I only heard a few fragments. A dark wizard said they were running out of time and needed more sacrifices. If those people weren't enough, they could just make up the difference by sheer numbers." Hiltberg turned over and looked towards Mosul. "I guess the sheer number they're talking about must be quite large, right?"

The two men looked at each other in silence, but Hilterberg was born as a knight's squire and had been with Prince Suleiman and Timur for many years. He had indeed seen some things that were not in line with common sense, while Pepper Mari remembered the Aleppo Massacre that year.

The Mongol people were divided into many tribes.

In addition to Ostad, there were two other guests at the dinner, Jatalehun, Qinggelinayan's younger brother, and Centurion Mongke.

Jatalehun had been studying abroad in Samarkand as a hostage for many years. Li Rufeng didn't know how much real skills he had learned, but he had accumulated a lot of connections.

It was Jatalehun who helped to arrange the invitation to Ostad this time.

Jatalehun came to Aleppo half a month ago. After a frank talk with his brothers, Jatalehun gave up his position in the tribe and went to Aleppo to join Li Rufeng.

Of course, this matter was just a private plan among the brothers and was not told to Li Rufeng explicitly, but Li Rufeng had roughly guessed Qinggelinayan's intention and arranged a position of neither big nor small for Jialalhun, who is currently in charge of reorganizing the militia forces that had just been established in the city.

In exchange for benefits, Qinggelinayan was very sensible and moved Centurion Mengge's camp to a place not far from Aleppo. Obviously, the relationship between Centurion Mengge and Li Rufeng made him lose Qinggelinayan's trust to some extent.