Chapter 107 Where is home?
“What about the reward for the walking competition?” Horn looked like he hated iron.
“I can’t walk any more, no more.” Frick narrowed his eyes in an awkward manner.
With a wink to Chilvis in front of him, Horn asked them to take the others and leave first. Horn squatted down and whispered:
"This walking competition is a group competition. If you don’t leave, it’s as if everyone hasn’t left.”
"How is that possible?" Frick gasped, "This is not a real walking race. If we separate, we can separate without affecting it."
Horn's original words of persuasion were swallowed up instantly. inside.
"You, what are you talking about? Why can't I understand." Horn forced out an ugly smile.
"Your Majesty, stop pretending, we have known it for a long time. We old guys have eaten more salt than you have walked." An old woman said, scratching her throat.
The sun was a bit strong and it shone warmly on people, but Horn felt a little dizzy.
Frick was sitting on the big rock by the roadside, like an old man sitting in front of his house in autumn. His face was wrinkled, his legs were crossed, he was freehand and simple.
Hundreds of old people each found a place to sit down, as comfortable as sitting at the end of the house after working.
"I, I don't understand...you..." Horn's mouth was stuck and he couldn't speak.
"We are not that group of young people. They really believe in you, but we old guys all know that you don't. It's just that everyone is willing to follow you." Another old man answered.
Horn squatted on the spot like a sculpture: "Then since you know this, why don't you leave quickly?"
None of the old people responded to Horn's words. They just sat there lazily, as if basking in the sun.
After waiting for a long time, only Frick looked up at Horn: "If we go again, won't we drag down the children?"
"But, but..."
"Your Majesty Horn, do you know? I have met the Pope." Frick suddenly started a new topic.
“Back then, I traveled thousands of miles from the Thousand River Valley to the Holy City, and the poems I compiled spread throughout the entire Holy City within a few days.”
"Pope Johnny VIII is so kind. He received us tenderly, arranged us in a comfortable small hotel, and promised to give me an explanation."
"You say, you say, The hotel arranged by the Pope is located next to the Papal Palace, right next door!"
"How could a rogue break in through the window?"
Frick seemed to be biting his teeth into pieces, his whole body was shaking, and Horn couldn't tell whether it was Parkinson's disease or anger.
"In that hotel, that night, my adopted son Little Reddy was forced into a water tank and drowned by a scoundrel who suddenly appeared."
"I went to stop me, but they opened my mouth and poisoned my voice with paint. I can no longer sing."
"Your Majesty, after eighteen years, I lost my voice again I lost my family and children.”
The chirping of birds echoed in the puddles, and the sound of horse hooves could be heard faintly in the distance.
In the sunshine, a few butterflies stayed on the flowers, their eyes flickering, staring at Frick, who was grabbing his chest by the collar.
Frick put his hand into his clothes and grasped the ruler given to him by Madeleine, holding it tightly.
"Your Majesty, you are a good pope."
"You let us eat, you let us eat oil and meat, you let us wear clothes without holes, you let us wash ourselves Dirty face."
"You wear the same clothes as us, eat the same food as us, and you refuse to ride a horse but use it to carry the wounded."
"You don't care. Don't abandon us, you let us people, even the useless old people, live with dignity."
Half-kneeling in front of Horn, Frick gave the squatting Horn a blow. Big hug.
"I have always been thinking, if back then, I mean, if the Holy See had a good pope like you, my family, my little Reddy, would not have to die."
"We have been waiting and waiting for such a good pope for a lifetime. Our father has been waiting for a lifetime. Our grandfather has been waiting for a lifetime. We don't want our children to wait any longer."
Horn Squatting in place, just like the moment when Danji talked to him before, he seemed to be suffering from aphasia and couldn't speak a word.
"Your Majesty, this sword hilt is given to you." Frick took out a sword hilt with a sword grid from his arms.
“The hilt of the sword was originally given to my biological son. He heard me singing heroic epics so many times that he insisted on becoming a dragon-slaying warrior and asked for a sword.”
"I couldn't resist him, so I bought a sword hilt and told him that when he came of age, I would buy him a sword blade, but he wouldn't use it anymore."
Frick inserted the hilt of the sword into him Bag at waist.
Horn was stunned.
Squeezing Horn's shoulders, Frick helped Horn up. He seemed to be smiling: "Your Majesty, I beg you, don't let our children die to us old things again." "
Forced Horn to face forward, Flick patted his back: "Let's go, go faster"
Horn stepped forward mechanically. He subconsciously took four steps forward, but he couldn't stretch out his legs to take the fifth step.
"Go forward, don't look back!" Frick shouted towards Horn's back.
After standing there for three to five seconds, Horn continued to take steps. He walked faster and faster, and finally left here almost as if he was running away.
Until Horn's figure disappeared at the end of the road, Frick still stood there, not knowing what he was thinking.
"Frick, don't stand there stupidly." "Ah, brother."
"How about it? Take a sip to strengthen your courage."
A big-framed old man took out a jug of wine and half a roasted black water vole from his pocket.
Looking at the wine in front of him, Frick smiled: "Don't drink anymore, I'm sober."
Pushing the wine to his mouth, Frick looked up The blue sky is so high and so far.
After not singing for decades, Frick suddenly wanted to sing a few lines, but he was a little afraid that he would forget.
"I hurt myself again, today."
Amidst the chirping of countless birds in the forest, Frick's hoarse song passed through the clouds and reached the sky where he looked up.
“I wonder if I still have the strength to feel,
Concentrate on the pain,
That is the only real thing. ”
Thumping his thighs to beat the beat, Frick used his broken voice to sing the songs he used to sing when he was a bard.
The once rich voice, as early as paint, tears and The drink became dull.
Swaying his emaciated body, Frick stood up on the big rock, his eyes narrowed and his arms spread out, as if he had been on the tavern stage.
< br>At that time, his youngest son would stand behind him and play the drums for him, and his wife would play the flute.
In that warm summer tavern, it felt like this day after day, as if it could last forever.
Until the day when the tavern owner pulled their bodies back from the church on a cart.
“The needle stung the wound,
just like the old stinging pain.”
Frick, whose hair smelled of alcohol, felt this way for the first time. wide awake.
He could feel the ruler in his arms glowing hot.
Castle Joan of Arc is a good place, and Madeleine is a good boy, but he can never go there again or see him again.
"I also tried to make all of this disappear and never reappear...
But I just remember everything."
Put your hands down from your rib-like chest, Frick sang the last line again in a low voice.
"But I just remember everything!"
During the song, the ground trembled, the grass blades shook, and the bloody smell hit his face amidst the friction of armor.
At the end of the road, a group of cavalry in silver armor appeared. The tall knights sat on tall war horses.
The edges of their saddles are embroidered with exquisite patterns, and their robes are tattooed with the family crest representing Prince Condé.
The war horses sprayed hot air ferociously from their mouths, and together with the masters on their backs, they turned their cold and majestic eyes.
The narrow path was crowded with panting people and horses.
The tall knight headed by him wears a black and gray robe over his silver armor. The edges of the Milanese shoulder armor are inlaid with gold that shines in the sun.
Standing quietly in front of the old people, he ordered the knights to raise their chins.
Boolius, who was at the front, turned his head and said a few words to Cleonte.
Clement nodded, crossed the crowd, and walked to this group of broken old people.
Looking at the group of old men and women blocking the road as if they were chatting at the entrance of the village, Cleonte suddenly felt a little palpitated, but he still calmed down and shouted arrogantly:
“Get out of here, Lord Knight. I have a kind heart and don’t care about you old people. Get out of the way and go home.”
Frick stood up from the ground with his spear and staggered to Cleonte. in front of.
"Go home, the Lord Knight will forgive you."
He leveled the spear, but the spear continued to tremble with his body.
"It's hard to survive, why are you standing there? Can you get involved in this? Go home early...are you crazy?"
He took several steps back, covering his pierced ears, Cleonte screamed at Frick.
"Home?"
Withdrawing the spear, Frick gritted his teeth and smiled, his whole body trembling like a lame old wolf: "Am I him? Where is the home? "
Passing by the dazed Cleonte, Frick and the old men stumbled towards the high-riding Knight of the Order, carrying their spears.
Just like what he had sung thousands of times, those warriors charging towards the evil dragon.
“Where do we have a home?!”
(End of this chapter)