The Moorish village was filled with the scent of deathly silence. Judging from the burnt orchard outside the village and the destroyed canal at the entrance, this was once quite a prosperous village. At least in the territory of the Kingdom of Castile, there weren't many villages that could build canals.
"Praise the Almighty! The Moors in the south of the Peninsula are indeed a laborious group!"
Old knight Lorenzo rode his horse, inspecting the plundered village with interest. He scrutinized an entire row of stone houses, the chicken coops fenced with wooden palisades beside the houses, and the large granaries faintly visible in the distance. As an old Venetian knight who owned and personally managed a manor, he was well aware of just how much wealth such a village could generate annually!
