While the three workshops were working, Vig was enjoying his long-lost time. He rode horses and hunted game to improve his diet.
Whoosh~
An arrow whistled through the bushes, causing an angry roar. Instantly, a dark brown boar appeared in full view of everyone. As it spun around, Vig aimed at its neck and fired another arrow, but unfortunately, he missed by a bit, and the arrow pierced the boar's buttocks.
Realizing that the attack was coming from the people nearby, the boar's huge body rushed forward. On its way, Vig fired another arrow and hit it in the forehead, but the arrow's tip was blocked by the hard skull and only pierced a layer of skin.
"What a ferocious beast."
He sighed. Seeing this, the six shield bearers who followed him threw their iron axes, raised their spears, and gathered around the lord.
After being hit by several iron axes in a row, the boar spun around for a while, shook its head, and its speed unintentionally slowed down. Facing six sharp and cold spears, it instinctively felt the danger and walked around the crowd for a while, but was struck by an arrow again.
This time, Vig accurately hit the right side of the boar's neck, and red and stinking blood spurted out along the groove of the arrow, and the tail feathers continued to tremble from the boar's last struggle.
After a long time, the huge and bulky body fell to the ground. Two shield bearers pierced the stomach with spears to make sure the prey was dead, and pulled out a knife from their belt to cut the body.
The boar was estimated to weigh around 400 kilograms, with sharp tusks shaped like short spears, and was larger in size than most of its kind. Wig signaled to the shield guard that he could keep the head, and once it was dressed, it could be hung in the hall as an ornament.
It took the shield guard a long time to cut it into four pieces, and four horses carried it back to Tyneburg.
Catching this prey meant that he would not have to eat fish for several days. Wig was in good spirits, whistling excitedly all the way until he saw several well-dressed men and women standing in front of his house.
Squire?
You have come to me of your own accord, this must be bad news! Dismounting,
Wig headed straight for the lord's hall. Before he sat down, the woman began to cry and asked him to seek justice.
"Tell me, where did the injustice come from?" Wig yawned, put his hands on the arms of the chair and looked casually at the visitors.
The crying woman was over 40 years old, thin and coughing from time to time. Two children followed her.
On the other side, two men looked like father and son, and the father was holding a document written in English.
In the dispute between the two parties, Wig roughly understood the cause of the dispute. The father and son insisted that the woman's husband owed three pounds of silver in his lifetime and was now unable to repay it, and asked her to repay it with her property.
In response, the woman said that she never knew about the debt and refused to repay it.
Wig: "Three pounds of silver is not a small sum. There should be a witness at that time. Where is he?
The woman replied, "He went south to protect the king last year and died in battle."
The debtor and the witness were dead, Vig was very worried. He looked at Miham next to him and asked him to check the document carefully.
"Date, place, witness, amount..."
After half a minute, Miham sighed regretfully and found no errors.
This is a disaster. Vig's right index finger unconsciously tapped the armrest of the chair, "Her husband owes three pounds of silver. What exactly is he going to do?"
The father and son said in unison, "Buy books from the Roman period, it seems he is going to study heretical teachings."
Books? Vig immediately perked up, "What books?"
The father and son looked at each other, "Uh, we don't know Latin."
The woman also showed a puzzled expression, saying that she had never seen those broken books. At this time, someone behind her whispered a few Latin words, and then quickly fell silent.
"Who is speaking?" Vig looked around and found that the voice was coming from the girl behind the woman, "What did you just say?"
Noticing that the gentleman was sitting slightly forward, his eyes were sharp, and his left hand was pressing on the hilt of his sword, as if an animal was going to hunt. The girl turned pale and quickly waved her hands, showing that this had nothing to do with her.
"Ahem, sir," Mitchum coughed, "if I heard correctly, what she just muttered should have been 'Commentarii de Bello Gallico,' which translated into English means 'Gallic War.'"
Hearing this, the father and son were beside themselves with joy: "Yes, I heard him mention the word 'Gal'. Ha ha, his daughter admitted it."
At this point, the woman realized that her sophistry had been exposed, and in her anger she tore at her daughter's long dark brown hair: "Damn Geligiev, it's all your fault for letting the cat out of the bag. How did I remind you before I left? I should have sold you to a slaver if I had known." "
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts," the daughter hastily dodged, and the woman chased her around the hall, much to the annoyance of Vig.
At this point, Mitchum leaned over and said in his ear: "Sir, the books that are now circulating in the market are mostly theological classics. Books like The Gallic War are very rare. Better to buy them at a low price." "
That seems to make sense. Just treat it like a textbook for learning Latin."
Knowledge is priceless. After thinking for a moment, Vig said, "Then who, Heligifu, what books exactly did your father leave? Tell me the name, maybe I'll buy them."
"Sir, my name is Heligifu," the girl retorted subconsciously, but her mother grabbed her ear and shouted, "Hurry up!"
Then the other side uttered a series of Latin phrases, which Mitcham translated as follows:
"The Gallic War," "On the Orators," "On the Republic," "On the Constellations and Destiny," "Travels in Andalusia," "Natural Rites of the Caledonians"...
Mitcham tried hard to suppress his emotions: "Sir, the total cost is much more than three pounds of silver. Buy them quickly, and then you can make a lot of money by reselling them to the southern booksellers."
Can this still make money?
Right. After all, the author of Part I is Caesar, and the author of Parts II and III is Cicero. The names of these two men alone might attract these booksellers.
Vig cleared his throat. "Well, since you can't pay your debts, I'll spend three pounds of silver to buy this pile of rags. Send the books another day. If the contents are correct, I'll give the money to your creditors."
"No, that's too cheap! This is my father's life's work. He spent decades in the wool business to accumulate these books. Uh-huh…" Heligif strongly objected to this, but unfortunately she had no decision-making authority. The woman was afraid that the lord would go back on his word, so she shut her daughter's mouth and immediately announced that she accepted the deal.
After treating his guests to a meal of wild boar, Vig returned to his bedchamber with a burp and couldn't help but sigh at the high cost of medieval knowledge.
Three pounds of silver is worth twenty-four oxen or a small estate of over 200 acres, and that is a bargain. Books are so expensive, it is no wonder that knowledge has been monopolized by the church.