People in the Middle Ages, draw cards to get promoted

Alain Dele.

Along the oasis, there are scattered manors and villages.

Shepherds drive their flocks over hillsides.

The sky was blue and cloudless.

What a peaceful scene.

Old Hassan was squatting on the col, next to the camels grazing, and there was a gurgling stream flowing in the ravine below. It is simply a supreme enjoyment.

As a water guard, he has the responsibility to take care of this creek, and don't be driven by those stupid herdsmen to drink water here.

This is a drinking water canal!
Since the tribe migrated here, the life of the tribe has become much better.

At least it can fill your stomach.

As long as you work, you can fill your stomach and even save some money to buy wine.

Every year, there will not be a large number of clansmen who lose their lives in vain because of competition for water sources and pastures.

For a nomadic tribe, what a luxury it seemed in the past?
He turned his head and looked at the end of the blue sky, the oak tree whose canopy could be vaguely seen.

This is a sub-plant of the tree of life, which was originally just a small branch. It has only been a few months, and it has become a giant tree that can only be hugged by ten people. Hassan, who once led his tribe across the entire Arabian desert, has a lot to say about this. A deep shock.

"Praise the heavenly Father, under its shade, even in the desert, springs will spring up."

Old Hassan crossed himself.

In the distance, a young rider on a dromedary came galloping. He jumped off the hump skillfully and handed Old Hassan a piece of yellowed paper stamped with a double-headed eagle.

"Sheikh (patriarch), King Saladin is about to fight the Crusaders. The mobilization order has been sent to us, asking us to provide ten light riders who are good at riding and shooting with their own mounts."

"that's it?"

Old Hassan was a little surprised.

In previous years, when they were under the command of Rauf the Piercer, in the event of a war, at least half of the hundreds of adult males in the entire tribe had to be withdrawn, and additional livestock had to be handed over to make feathers for arrows and leather for shield skins.

"that's it!"

The face of the young rider did not look sad because of the approaching pace of the war, but there was a kind of eagerness to try.

Old Hassan couldn't help laughing and said: "Thanks to my foresight, it must be because I led everyone to convert to Christianity and showed sincerity that I won such treatment for our Sayo people."

The young rider teased, "Haha, what kind of conversion is Sheikh, you still have a holy fire flag hidden in the woodshed."

"You bastard, I'm not afraid of someday."

Old Hassan hesitated to speak.

Because his tribe is accustomed to nomadic life, the local officials licensed them to still live in the form of tribes, but his power as a chief was greatly diluted. There are tribunes who specialize in governing them.

It can be regarded as the superior of his part-time "water guard".

But in fact, it is a civilian official.

The Kurds can't put down their whips and pick up hoes, and they are good at riding, and they are often recruited by local officials to perform some auxiliary patrol tasks to guard against the Bedouin nomads who come and go like the wind.

Old Hassan, who had worked hard for the tribe for most of his life, finally let go of the burden. While relaxing, Old Hassan couldn't help but feel a little lost: "What's written on it?"

The young rider laughed and said, "I don't know the words on it. The Franks themselves don't know the Frankish language. But it was the Ulm inspector who gave me this 'Conscription Order'."

"He said, this is a contract - it stipulates the duties and obligations that we who are recruited accordingly, oh yes, and power, the knight of Ulm said, if we make meritorious deeds, we may even be Confer knights!"

The young man's tanned face was full of excitement.

Old Hassan said with a smile: "If Lord Ulm said it, then there is no need to question it."

Ulm once helped old Hassan get back the family's life-saving money, and he was also the nobleman who helped them settle here when he led the tribe to migrate here.

They didn't even collect a penny during this process - this seemed so unbelievable in the eyes of old Hassan and even the whole tribe.

They don't know what chivalry is, and they don't know what the eight virtues are, but even if they don't know their content, the image of Ulm is still the most perfect image of a knight in the eyes of the Shayue tribe.

"Drim."

Old Hassan looked serious.

It is rare for a young man who is called a daimyo to appear a little embarrassed. He has wandered outside, and he feels that he can talk to those knights and gentlemen. He is also a character. Fear of seeing a cat.

"The battlefield is not a child's play. It is completely different to deal with a few Bedouin robbers on the patrol road with you, or to arrange a group fight with someone after drinking too much."

"Sheh, I know."

Durham muttered: "Those master knights, as well as the regular army under the lord's command, are all wearing solid armor, even if they stand still, it's okay to be stabbed by me. The only few sets of armor in our clan are almost embroidered. It's a lump of iron."

"But Sheikh."

Durham raised his head, with an extremely resolute expression on his face: "I want to stand out. The life here is what we dream of. If the Shayue Department wants to gain a firm foothold here, someone must stand out."

"Not everyone is as noble as the knight of Ulm. I don't want to encounter a greedy official or a lord riding on our heads one day."

Seeing the solemnity in the young man's eyes, old Hassan spat: "Don't act with me here, you bastard, don't you just miss my suit of armor?"

Durham was stunned for a moment, then said with a sneer, "Did you see it?"

Old Hassan snorted coldly: "You little goat, you dare to play tricks in front of the old jackal, and you will stand here with me to finish this shift."

"okay."

Durham readily agreed.

"Sheh, you promised me?"

"Bah, that means Moody and the others died on the way, otherwise how could it be your turn to worry about my armor?"

Old Hassan was a little sad. He originally had a son, but he was killed by pursuers on the way to escape from Raouf's territory—both of them died. It's all because the lord doesn't treat these outsiders as human beings at all.

Durham said without hesitation: "Father, from today onwards, Sheikh, you are my father."

"roll."

Old Hassan scolded: "You bastard, go find your own father, don't blindly go after your relatives, and come home with me to get the armor after you finish this shift. Remember, bring it back to me intact."

Durham was stunned for a moment: "Father, how can your armor compare with that of the Ulm knight? His armor will leave marks even if it is hacked by a Bedouin bandit. I'm afraid that if you do it a few more times, you can directly It will fall apart."

Old Hassan was so angry that he blew his beard and stared: "Fart, I don't know how many lives I have saved with this set of armor, and you still despise it. Fuck off, I won't borrow it anymore."