Chapter 106 Tragic Memories

The old guy said nothing, just shook his head and said nothing. He was trying to avoid my questioning. Maybe I went too far at the time and kept pestering him about his pain. Not only did I not get the answer I wanted, but it made him more painful and disgusted with me.

I didn't ask any more questions, and this brief conversation ended in such an awkward way. The carriage continued to move forward and soon entered the primeval forest.

Such forests were very common in this era. It happened to be a wilderness, like a huge hunting ground, and the bloodthirsty hunter seemed to be hiding in the large bushes. The tall trees quickly blocked the sunlight, and the road under our feet became very difficult to walk. The team slowed down and sat in the carriage. The oppressive atmosphere around me really made me very uncomfortable. I looked around, my palm pressed tightly on the hilt of the sword, so that I could draw the sword at any time and enter the battle state.

The team moved forward slowly. The rustling of the bushes caused by the soldiers' advance startled the birds in the jungle. They chirped on the branches and looked at us "invaders" vigilantly.

This time, they were not as reckless as before. I saw dozens of scouts on horseback running out from behind. They wore woolen hats and long-sleeved loose robes. They had swords on their waists and horns tightly grasped in their left hands, so that they could blow them in time in an emergency so that the team in the middle could be alerted immediately. They spread out and rode into the jungle, and soon disappeared in the tall bushes.

"I really hope they are okay."

I watched the branches of the bushes tremble slightly after they went away. I didn't expect that the person who said this was the old coachman. He just glanced at them and turned back, his eyes filled with an indescribable expression that was hard to understand.

"You must be worried."

I said to him, "You are afraid that there are Burgundians lying in ambush in these bushes, and that they may never return."

"This is a dangerous job, isn't it, sir?" The old coachman looked at me and forced an unnatural smile on his face, but it was not funny at all.

"This is their job. If they use their lives to send out a valuable warning, we will be able to prepare in time to avoid being attacked by surprise and causing more deaths."

I explained to him the role of scouts. In my opinion, scouts are very honorable. Although they don't have strong armor or sharp swords, they do the most dangerous work and they have to command awe.

"Oh, that's only in your opinion, my Lord."

The old coachman didn't seem to agree with me. He squinted his eyes and glanced at the bushes beside him. I think he was making sure that the young children were still alive.

Perhaps my words piqued his interest. I saw the old man leaning on the hard wooden board behind him, taking out the small kettle beside him and politely signaling to me that he was willing to share it with me.

"Try it. It's the wine I brewed myself."

Although his tone and old teeth gave me a very uncomfortable impression, out of politeness and more curiosity, I still took the small pot, opened my mouth, tilted my head back and took a sip.

“Cough cough cough…”

I almost spit out more than half of the wine because it tasted just like swill. If I had to describe the taste, I think it was the taste of the old coachman's mouth. There is no way to describe the disgusting taste in my mouth now. Anyway, I refuse to call this thing wine.

"How is it?" The old coachman saw my embarrassing look and was not afraid that I would be furious. Instead, he laughed heartlessly, which made Andrew beside me confused. I quickly took out the water bottle hanging on my waist, took a few gulps and spit out the mouth. The taste was really unpleasant. I didn't know whether this old guy was deliberately making fun of me or he really liked it?

The old guy took the wine jug and laughed, then took a big sip towards me. What surprised me was that after drinking such a disgusting thing, his expression was as if he was tasting tea (although there was no such high-end thing as tea nowadays). After putting down the wine jug, he slowly spoke.

"My Lord," he breathed a sigh of relief, and I pulled up my cloak to cover my mouth and nose. He continued, "You don't know, the wine I brewed tastes very unfriendly, so I am the only one who can drink it."

"Ha, then your brewing skills must be very inadequate!"

I laughed him off and deliberately mocked him because he was the worst winemaker I had ever seen.

"No, it's not as bad as you think." The old coachman shook his head like a rattle. He closed his eyes and thought for a while, then said slowly: "You may not believe it, but I used to be the best brewer in Worms."

"That must have been a long time ago!"

"Yes, long before the Burgundians came, and I saw Stilicho in the street, as he was going to parley with the Franks."

"That was a long time ago." I echoed. Stilicho was a legendary general when the empire was still intact, a prince of the Vandals. He witnessed the history of the empire from reunification to division. Ironically, it was this prince of the Vandals who almost massacred his people. I guess he only had Rome in his heart at that time. Although this was a fatal scandal, it did not affect his high status in my heart at all.

"Stilicho drank the wine I brewed when I was still a minor, and there were the Huns behind him, those short guys who grew up on horseback."

The old man began to reminisce again. He really didn't expect that he had such a glorious and proud history.

"Is this the taste of your wine at that time?" I asked him.

"No, no, no, no." The old coachman shook his head again and continued, "The wine I brew is very sweet, because it's not like those guys who think they are civilized who add water to the wine. My God, what kind of wine is that?" As he said, he took another sip.

"Just a few years after I learned that General Stilicho had gone to heaven, I married my wife for winemaking. She was a famous beauty in the city!" As he spoke, the old coachman actually laughed. That smile was very beautiful. It was not artificial at all when facing me, but a happy smile from the bottom of his heart. But this beautiful smile only lasted for a few seconds before it was retracted. I only heard the old coachman continue to say: "My wife and I soon had a child. I was very happy to see him grow up day by day, but gradually, the barbarians came and cut off the caravan, so there were no grapes. Without grapes, I couldn't make wine. I had to work for the nobles in the city, so." He showed me his right hand again. Then he said: "I wished they would all die immediately. Just a few years ago, the Burgundians came and brutally slaughtered them all. I was not happy at all after getting the so-called freedom."

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I listened quietly.

"Later, the Burgundians occupied Ludinan. Because they needed soldiers, they captured adult children in the city and trained them to be warriors. My child was among them." As if evoked painful memories, another turbid tear flowed from the corner of the old man's eye. "For the sake of warriors, these barbarians didn't care about men or women, my child, and his favorite girl, Hannah."

"Hannah!"

When I heard the name, I almost cried out, but I held it back. I didn't dare to make a sound. In my eyes, I seemed to be back to that night, the poor woman, I cut her hamstrings with an iron sword, forced her to kneel in front of me, and then I saw her tears, probably because of the pain.

"I hope it's not her, but of course it's him!"

"Hannah!"

The man was screaming, and then he was completely angry and lost his mind. He rushed towards me and was finally pierced by the military flag in Andrew's hand. I almost forgot the look in his eyes before he died, but why do I remember the details of killing him and her so clearly? "Huh? What's wrong with you, my lord?" The old man noticed that I was dodging, so he asked me.

"Oh, nothing." I smiled and quickly pressed my chest with my hand. I looked back at Andrew. He was just listening carefully. I'm afraid he has forgotten the killing at that time. I quickly explained to the old man: "The wound in my chest hurts again, but it's just a labor pain. It's okay. Let's continue!"

"Oh." The old man nodded, and then said: "I know he is dead, in Ludinan."

"Ludinan?"

"Yes, I don't know where he died, but I know that no one who went to Ludinan came back, including Hannah."

(End of this chapter)