Following what Field pointed out, it is easy to find that extremely abnormal account.
Some people, to be precise, were a group of people who used a whole set of sacrificial vessels to exchange large quantities of rations and church livestock.
This is a big business that loses money. The sacrificial supplies will definitely not use bad silver with many impurities. The cost of materials alone is not low. In addition, the long hand-made cycle of professional jewelry and silver craftsmen, churches in wealthy areas may not be willing to prepare a set.
After all, it is something that can’t be used a few times a year, so it’s really necessary to use silver-plated gold-plated ones.
So, where can I get a set of sterling silver sacrificial instruments in the parish? There is no need to guess the answer to the question.
"Monastery? Why are they here?"
Dominic touched the wrinkled words, like the messy ruts in the mud, driving towards the unknown.
"So it's strange. Even if the grain storage is insufficient, there are other larger villages and towns near the road that can be visited, so they don't have to come here to share." Field was puzzled. "They wanted everything and almost emptied it."
That is to say, for the sake of this set of sacrificial instruments, otherwise the church manager would never be able to lose his property at the risk of losing food.
Any accidents happen before the harvest season will be a big problem.
"And why use the sacrificial vessel to exchange?" The most incomprehensible part is this. It is equivalent to a farmer taking out the land he relies on for some temporary rations. It is a helpless move at the critical moment of survival.
Moreover, as a clergy, he has added a layer of moral and faith issues. Secularizing objects that cannot be measured by the value of money is blasphemy and will be punished by the church when the influence is bad.
Unless it is in some special circumstances, such as war and famine, which is difficult to maintain survival, or to maintain necessary charity, there is room for discussion.
But Field could not think of any urgent situation that the monastery could encounter.
"What do you think?" He turned to Dominic, who was rushing into the text with all his attention, as if something had grown out of it, entangled his eyes and pulled it into that time.
The companion did not say a word, but Field felt that the other party should have read something, just like before, appearing and disappearing from time to time, meaningless clues, fatefully led them to a direction that seemed to be arranged.
Uneasiness arises in his heart. Although he still has not found its source, the holy emblem hanging above his head does not comfort him, but instead feels uncomfortable being looked down upon.
"No." Dominic massaged the position between the inner canthus and the bridge of the nose with two fingers, and flipped back with one hand to the blank space where there was no record, and then turned back to its original position.
"Of course I know something is wrong, what I want to know is what you think."
"A fleet is not specifically for collecting food storage." Thanks to previous experience in food procurement and manor management, it is easy to see that the rations given by the church are dropping off the bucket for the consumption of an entire monastery, and there is not much more to everyone.
Field nodded in agreement. The two of them had the same views, so it would be strange what the convoy came to do.
"What if it's only for fleet use?"
"Not many." Field calculated roughly. According to the fleet of nearly forty people when they arrived, it would be enough to last half a month, not even a livestock and forage. "If there are not many people, it would be a good time to use it."
"But what do they want? It's impossible to come here just to do a loss-making business, unless it's just passing by, and the destination is not here."
"They are in a hurry," Dominic added.
"I was so anxious that I didn't prepare myself, so I needed to make a halfway point of remedy; I was so anxious that I didn't have time to raise funds and didn't have time to stay, so I might as well just use a sacrificial weapon to exchange for things."
“Is this reasonable?”
Of course it is unreasonable. The more you think, the more you feel a sense of bizarreness.
Dominic quickly flipped the entire note back and forth several times, but couldn't find the second similar record, which made him determine what he was and became urgent: "We have to figure out what's going on."
"I think it's hard." Field was pessimistic about this. I'm afraid I've found an illusion when I looked up the data and regarded this place as the library of Notre Dame Cathedral, and felt that cross-references could be found to do research from different angles.
Even if there is, they are not the material.
"Write it again, maybe someone else will remember it?" Dominic pressed the knuckles of the bridge of his nose and almost embedded it in, trying to squeeze out the silt purple. However, he didn't realize it at all, so he eagerly moved out another old book and quickly searched it.
The feeling of uneasiness increased. Field's mood sank, and his companion's behavior made him think of the owner of those notes for no reason, and he was obsessed with the pursuit of the illusory thing like a devil.
However, he could not forcefully stop it. After all, the two were just on the same level. Without a clear reason, there was no other way except to persuade.
"It's a pity that it's been more than twenty years, and I guess there's no hope."
So long after, the church has changed a group of people, but the current managers may not know the details.
"Wait, what did you say just now?"
A casual sentence attracted Dominic's attention, and his eyes suddenly turned around between the pile of old papers.
"Uh, no hope?"
"No, let's say another sentence."
"I said... it's been more than twenty years?"
"Yes, that's it." Dominic quickly turned the record back, compared with the year, and excitedly pointed out, "To be precise, it was the record from June of that year about twenty-one years ago."
"What does this mean?"
"More than twenty years ago, think about when this was."
With a bright look, Field finally found the key to the other party's point of advice: "Monastery? The monastery moved away at that time."
Dominic became more and more excited. Field seemed to see the illusory light burning like a flame in his eyes, leaping hotly, and just like this, the jumping thought burst out from the corner of memory, filling the speculation with an incredible angle.
"I remember the Baron seemed to have mentioned that they were walking in a hurry, not even caring about the half-ripe wheat in the field... the season is also in line."
Excessive fluctuations seem to exacerbate the headache, with bloodshot and reddened skin and sweating on the forehead.
In the wet and cold weather, facing the light of the window, Field saw the light white mist rising between the other person's hair.
"There is no second record here, is it not to remember, or are they not returning?" Dominic's speech speed was accelerating, but his speech was not very smooth. What was rolling in his throat, disturbing his expression.
His situation looked a bit weird, like a damaged wind instrument, playing the current fast-paced out-of-tune score intermittently but persistently.
A pathological idea that is free from reason and impulse, forces it to think, express, and fight against physical discomfort.
Finally, expressing desire failed to suppress physiological reactions.
"vomit!"
Before Field responded, Dominic vomited violently, the nausea made him unable to take into account the precious paper records in front of him, and almost pulled his stomach out of the esophagus.
The lunch that I had not eaten a few bites had been digested, with only a little tea and a rhizome of plant crumb leaves wrapped in mucus.
The spray-like vomiting quickly emptied the digestive tract and was not relieved until the yellow-green bile-like liquid vomited out and the lips became cyanotic because it was difficult to breathe, and the person and the chair fell to the ground.
"Hell, hell! Someone comes to help!"
Field was rushing to turn the patient's head to one side to prevent him from choking to death by the fluid he vomited.
Chapter completed!