I built a manor in the Middle Ages

Chapter 58 Disaster Victims
After a few days of replacing the nag, the Percheron returned to its former role.

After Luke finished sowing that day, he rode his warhorse along the Agate River to take a look upstream and see if he could hunt some game.

Now it was time to start gathering meat again, but unlike before when he could only set traps, perhaps he truly had a natural talent for archery. In six months, Luc could already shoot a running hare within thirty yards. Together with the grown-up Charlie, they set out along the Agate River, with a horse and a dog. He instructed Ryan to return at lunchtime and head straight for the eastern forest.

Little Charlie twisted his butt and ran wildly in front, chasing flying insects from time to time, or digging in a shallow hole in the soft grass.

The dangerous creatures around him had been eliminated by himself. Luc rode on horseback, slowly moving behind, with a fine steel knight sword on his waist and a bow and arrow hanging on his left.

Luc originally planned to make the twenty iron arrows into sharp arrows. The sharp arrows have a longer body and great lethality, but they also have certain requirements for the pulling force of the bow.

Luke's bow was not good enough to meet the requirements. It rained a few days ago and he even found that the bowstring was a little soft. This is also a disadvantage of using animal tendons to make bowstrings.

I can make a better bow later.

"Wang Wang Wang!"

After walking for about half an hour, little Charlie suddenly stopped, curled his nose, and then kept roaring at a bush.

Luc immediately pulled the reins and frowned slightly.

A smell distinctly of burning twigs reached my nostrils, followed by a rustling sound.

"Someone?!"

With his thoughts racing, Luc decisively drew out his short bow.

"Hush Julie!"

In a thick bush far away from the fire, Mary, lying on the ground, covered Julie's mouth tightly with her hands to stop her five-year-old daughter from crying.

On the other side, the ten-year-old boy Miller was also curled up in the grass, his fingers dug into the soil, biting his lips tightly, trying not to make any sound.

In front of them, Robert, his forehead covered in sweat, tightly grasped a rusty sickle. Due to excessive force, the blood in his fingertips gradually turned white.

Robert swallowed his saliva. His wife's words last night forced him to get up and move on. It seemed that fate was finally on the side of this poor family. Robert's forehead did not continue to burn. He went into the forest and spent the night wandering in confusion. He did not hear the imagined wolf howling. Even this morning, he accidentally caught a stupid squirrel.

This made Robert think for a moment that God had finally blessed them.

Squirrels are not fat, and one squirrel obviously cannot satisfy four hungry stomachs. So Robert and his wife held back their saliva and chose to feed their children.

They put it on the fire and roasted it without even removing all the hair, after all, Miller and Julie were starving.

The sizzling sound of roasting continued to be heard, and bursts of delicious aroma were emanating from it. Robert felt distressed as his skinny daughter stood by the fire with her fingers between her teeth, staring at the squirrel.

The sensible Miller added firewood on the side, and Robert took out three hazelnuts from his pocket and gave two to his wife. They chewed them silently.

Just as the four of them were waiting for the squirrel to be roasted, suddenly, a burst of dog barking suddenly sounded from a distance!
Next came the sound of horse hooves!
Robert stood up in panic and without saying a word, shouted to his wife and children, "Run to the forest!"

Mary was quick to pick up Julie and headed for the forest, followed closely by Miller. Julie started crying because she couldn't eat the squirrel. Robert was the last one to leave, and after a second of hesitation, he took the squirrel with him.

The few of them didn't run far before the sound of horse hooves got closer and closer. In desperation, the family could only hide in the dense bushes, hoping not to be discovered.

But how could it not be discovered under the sensitive nose of the hound?

Peeking out through a gap in the bushes, Robert first saw an enormous black dog. The black dog, sturdy and fat, had just emerged from the woods and was barking non-stop at his own bushes! That wasn't the worst part. The most terrifying thing was that behind it, a man on a tall horse heard the dog barking and decisively drew his bow and arrow, aiming directly in his direction!

"Run, run! Don't look back!!"

Realizing that he had been exposed long ago, Robert roared and pushed his wife and children behind him away, then raised his scythe and rushed towards the knight without hesitation.

He had no hope of repelling the knight, but only hoped to use his body to allow his wife and children to run further.

In his most simple concept, the only ones who could ride horses and lead dogs to hunt in the forest were knights, and knights had nothing to do with virtue.

Realizing that a group of disaster victims had broken into his territory and stolen squirrels, he would never forgive them.

Robert's body was shaking with fear. As soon as he emerged from the bushes, he was tripped by a branch due to nervousness, and the sickle fell out of his hand in an instant.

Before the peasant could even fight the enemy, he threw away his only iron tool.
Robert looked at the scythe that rolled away in despair. He couldn't stop it for even a second.
Before Mary, dragging Julie Miller, could even run out of the bushes, a sharp arrow almost brushed her head and hit the tree trunk behind her. The tail wing kept shaking, and Mary was so scared that she stopped in her tracks.

".Sir Knight, please, please forgive my family. Punish me if you want. I accidentally entered your territory, hunted your squirrels, and tried to attack you. You can kill me, but please don't take your anger out on my wife and children."

Robert lay on the ground, with no hope left. He began to kowtow to the knight repeatedly, crying and begging for forgiveness. Because he kowtowed so hard, blood appeared on his forehead after just a few kowtows.

Mary stood aside holding Julie Miller in her arms, shaking like a sieve.

The mountain breeze blew through the treetops, and it was Luc's rider who was watching Robert and had not put away his bow and arrow.

refugee?

The four people in front of him were pale and thin, with tattered clothes, even worse than Ryan was back then.

"Lucky guy, you fell down, otherwise that arrow would have gotten stuck in your throat instead of the tree trunk!"

"Okay, no need to kowtow, just raise your head."

Seeing that they were not bandits hiding in the bushes, Luc did not pursue Robert's recent attack.

Luc also came from a lower class background, and he understood that Robert had no choice but to do what he did just now. His situation was different from Henry's. Besides, he was not hurt, so he did not mind letting this group of refugees go.

Luc's slightly tolerant words were carried into Robert's ears by the mountain breeze, but Robert thought for a moment that he had misheard.

Was it really so easy for me to be forgiven?
He couldn't help but trembled and raised his head, just in time to meet Luke's gaze. He subconsciously wanted to avoid it, but he saw that the other party used his eyes to signal him to stand up. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly mustered up the courage to stand up.

Seeing this, Mary hurriedly took the child and moved to Robert's side. The four of them huddled together like four quails.

Luc took out a boiled egg from his pocket and threw it to Robert. This was the food he prepared to have as a snack on the road.

Robert took it in a panic, and the shock in his heart was beyond words.

He had never seen such a kind lord.
I quickly broke it open and handed half to Miller and Julie, and then I heard Luc ask:
"I ask you questions. Where are you from? Are there other disaster victims behind you? Why are you here?"

"Sir, we are from Provence. The Lombards attacked our homeland, forcing us to flee north. Our original plan was to go to the County of Burgundy, but we were attacked by a group of bandits one week. All the refugees with us were killed. We were the only ones who managed to escape because we were at the back. So we had to change direction. I guess there was no one else behind us."

(End of this chapter)