The deserted Moorish village was deathly still. Every house had been broken into, and dark-red bloodstains could be seen everywhere, proclaiming the slaughter that had once taken place.
The well in the middle of the village was pitch-black. The old knight Lorenzo sat on his horse, unable to see clearly for a moment, so he nimbly dismounted and leaned over the mouth of the well for a look. A stench of rotting corpses drifted up from the bottom and sank into his nose.
"Damn it! Those butchering idiots! A mountain well this deep, and they've stuffed it full of bodies."
The old knight Lorenzo furrowed his brow, briefly studying the heap of stripped, bloated, rotting corpses in the deep well, then sighed helplessly.
"The water's full of corpse poison. Don't touch it!"
At that, the old knight thought for a moment, then called over an experienced retainer and gave his orders.
"Blessings of the Lord! Carlo, follow the Moors' abandoned aqueduct and search upstream. There should be a mountain spring or a stream there. Be careful, and see if there are any corpses by the water source!"
"Yes! Honored Knight Lorenzo, as you command!"
The retainer Carlo nodded, raised his hand, and gave a whistle, then sprang cleanly onto his warhorse. The mail shirt on his body had never been taken off, and a bloodstained longsword hung at his waist as he rode off just like that.
"Vaffanculo! We rode so far and finally got to rest, yet we can't even refill a mouthful of water!"
The young knight Giovanni's anger had not yet faded, and he cursed bitterly.
"Which wandering crusader band was it? They even killed unarmed women. Not a shred of chivalry!"
Hearing such a backward word as "chivalry," the old knight Lorenzo lifted his brows and