kingdom of nations
Chapter 25 The Unfortunate Count Etienne
Chapter 25 The Unfortunate Count Etienne (Part )
"Snowing."
Geoffroy Fouché said, the white-haired Templar Knight reaching out and touching the branches, the ground, and the stones with an experienced hand. "But even so, we still have to get going. Otherwise, we won't reach Azaz by night. Spending the night outside in weather like this is fatal. Even if, God willing, we don't die from the darkness and cold, the dampness will turn our legs into sticks."
He stood up on his knees, spat on the ground, and made the sign of the cross. "To hell with the devils and pagans, let's go!"
Following his words, several people who had received the Grand Commander's order with him also walked out of the "beehive room" together.
This simple conical adobe house has a diameter of only three wang feet (French unit of measurement - one wang foot is approximately equal to two meters) including the base, and a height of about two wang feet. The main materials of the walls and the floor are mud, wood chips and dead branches and leaves. Apart from the small door that the knights must bend over to enter, there is only a small skylight at the highest point - it is called a skylight, but in fact it is just a small hole.
Cesar finally left the house, trying not to look at the bodies piled like firewood behind it... These bodies belonged to the owners of the beehive house. Judging by their gender and age, they were probably a father, two sons, and their wives. Perhaps it was because there were three men in the family that they were able to build such a mud house. This was their precious asset, but also the source of their misfortune...
The first people Cesar and his party met were the youngest son and his mother. They were standing in front of a pine tree that was knocked down by lightning, scraping the bark on it with stones to eat. The bark here was not the rough and hard outer layer, but the white bast layer, which was scraped off thinly with a sharp stone or a knife. The fresh bast tasted refreshing, crisp and tender, with a little sweetness.
As for how Cesar knew it, it was of course Baldwin. Ever since he had such a wonderful little friend who was willing to walk out of the room, he wanted to share all his happiness with him.
César smiled at the sight of the mother and child—the joy of sharing the bast with Baldwin still lingered in his heart. But then he heard Geoffrey roar loudly: "Christian pagans!" At the same time, two sergeants in the team, one of Geoffrey's attendants, also shouted: "Enemy of the Son of Mary!"
They rode their horses towards the two poor creatures, but didn't immediately bring down their axes and clubs on them. Was that out of mercy? No, they deliberately let them go. Geoffrey later said that the mother and child were fully dressed—although those things could hardly be understood as clothes, but at least they were not naked, and they had bark shoes on their feet, which showed that they must have a nest.
They had just disembarked from Tripoli and had been running all the way, and were already exhausted. Now they had to spend the night in such a wilderness, so they had to find a place to stay.
The mother and son may have never encountered such a thing before, or they may have lost the ability to think like a chased beast. As expected, they ran towards their "nest" as the Knights Templar expected. A man immediately ran out of the house. He was the woman's husband and the child's father. When he saw this scene, he knew something was wrong. He immediately knelt down, spread his arms, clasped them in front of his chest, and made a prayer gesture.
Geoffrey knocked him down with an axe, and a young man and his wife ran out of the house. The young man was holding a stone knife in his hand and shouting in grief, but he was alone. How could he pose a threat to these knights with rich combat experience?
The whole thing happened in a few breaths. When Cesar caught up with them, the original owner of the house was already lying in a pool of blood. He was so shocked that he couldn't control himself until Geoffrey's servant woke him up rudely and asked him to help him clean up the bodies. In such a cold day, the blood coagulated quickly and the bodies became stiff in the blink of an eye. They moved them to the back of the house. When they left, the hungry beasts in the woods would follow the smell of blood and eat them up.
By the time Cesar entered the house, they had already lit the stove - a hole dug in the ground. The soldiers found a clay pot, which was probably the most valuable thing in the family besides the house. They put it on the fire, melted some snow, and put the grains, beans and pickled meat they brought with them into the pot to boil.
The oatmeal porridge was cooked quickly. Because the Knights Templar were equivalent to monks wearing helmets and armor, they could not talk while eating, so someone had to be responsible for reciting the Bible. This task soon fell on Cesar, who was the most literate, had the best voice, and had the least experience among them.
After they finished eating, it was Cesar's turn. He tried hard to forget what had just happened, but every mouthful of porridge he ate was filled with the strong smell of blood.
The soldiers exchanged meaningful glances. "He's still a child," Geoffrey said, watching him finish his meal before asking, "Are you pitying those pagans?"
Cesar was silent for a moment: "No... sir, I was just wondering how you could identify them."
Regardless of which god they believe in, the common people here dress similarly, wearing a long robe, barefoot, or wearing bark shoes and wooden shoes, and their belts are either rotten ropes or twisted pieces of leather. In winter, they wrap themselves as tightly as possible with everything they can wrap around their bodies.
Geoffrey smiled, stroking his chin. Templars were required to shave regularly, supervised by brothers known as "coats," but his beard grew exceptionally fast. Within a few days of leaving Alaska, it had already sprouted into a large, prickly patch. "I would like to tell you that it was the robe sleeve of my beloved Saint Erastus that brightened my eyes, allowing me to spot a scorpion hidden among bees and a venomous snake in the bushes, but..."
He glanced at Cesar.
People have the misconception that all of Alaska's military forces belong to the king and his vassals. In fact, this is not the case. The roots of every Crusader knight are "fighting for Christ," not for the king or lord. They are "under the protection and supervision of the Holy See, always and forever."
Because the Knights Templar once stood firmly on the side of Innocent II in a papal election, they received more honors and privileges than other knightly orders, such as being able to elect their own grand master, build private chapels, not only not having to pay tithes but also being able to collect tithes, being able to grant priesthood to others, and excommunicate anyone who harassed them... and so on.
As a king, it was certainly difficult for him to tolerate such a force, or even several unrestrained forces, in his own territory. Amalric I was on good terms with the Knights of the Charitable Order, but his relationship with the Knights Templar was not very good. Just a few years ago, Amalric I and the Knights Templar had a dispute over a piece of land in Transjordan. Transjordan was an important territory on the edge of Egypt. Amalric I was competing with Nur ad-Din for it, and of course he hoped that this land would belong to Al-Assalu, but was rejected by the Knights Templar.
Amalric I had no choice but to compromise and demand that the Knights Templar hold one of the positions at all costs. However, he had no idea that the position would be captured by the Saracens a few days later. Amalric I was furious and, despite all dissuasion, resolutely executed the twelve Knights Templar who were responsible for the failure...
There was one thing: although the Knights Templar were still willing to support Amalric I, their relationship wasn't exactly harmonious. So when Heraclius brought this child—everyone knew he was once a slave, but had won the favor of the king's son and thus became his squire—Geoffrey was reluctant and only accepted this new member with reluctance. But like many others, Geoffrey had only been with the child for a short time before he fell in love with him. So much so that when Cesar asked him this question, he didn't slap him or whip him like he would with the other squires of the Order. Instead, he gave an answer that was familiar to everyone, then met those green eyes and spoke gently.
"The real truth is that our messenger is dead, and this is the first family we've encountered. We don't know if there will be more people here, or if there are, how long we'll have to walk, or if the snow will get heavier, or if we'll encounter wolves, bears, or even Seljuks.
We need to be rested, sleep well, eat well - and these guys... I can tell you they didn't put a cross in the house, and they didn't say the name of Jesus Christ when they saw us - but that's all insignificant. Their biggest sin is showing up here.
Forget about the fact that we can negotiate with them and request to stay overnight. This place is too small and can only accommodate us or them. If they are true Christians, they will definitely abandon their houses and go outside for the help extended by us, the gods. Then, they will either freeze to death or be killed by wild beasts. It would be better to be buried by a divine blow and go to heaven faster... Of course, if they are not..." He did not continue, and there was no need to continue.
What could Cesar say? Unless he stood up right now and walked outside to freeze to death, he would have to accept this bloody favor, but this was - wrong, he said in his heart.
The next morning, when Geoffrey reached out to touch the branches, soil and stones to feel the temperature and humidity, sparse snowflakes fell from the lead-gray clouds again. Geoffrey had traveled back and forth between the Holy Land and the European continent many times (which was why he was sent here) and was very familiar with this irritating weather.
Low-hanging clouds, howling winds, and heavy snowfall are certainly daunting, but weather like this, with a light snow, a sunny day, a cloudy day, and another light snow, is even more deadly. Once the snow falls, it will be extremely cold when it melts. If the next day is still freezing cold, then the melted snow water will quickly freeze and become ice that is not hard but very slippery - their messenger kicked the horse because he was too anxious. The horse raised its hooves in pain and galloped away, but stepped on the broken ice and fell, breaking his neck.
Those who have not lived in this era will never know how important a messenger is.
In today's world, human beings are still far from being a match for nature. Between villages and cities, and between cities, wilderness, deserts, cliffs, rivers, swamps, wild beasts and birds still dominate the landscape. It is not uncommon for a person or a team to walk for several days or even months without seeing any human habitation. This is why, whether going to the market, working, or making a pilgrimage, people must travel in groups and have a messenger.
Messengers, more accurately speaking, are guides. They are true craftsmen who must not only have a good memory, but also be brave, courageous, and loyal enough (so as not to lead the enemy into the village or castle). They must know where to go, how to go, the speed and rhythm of walking, what tools are needed, what clothes to wear, where to look out, and where to rest and drink water.
Skills and tricks like these would only be passed down by a father to his eldest son, who would then pass them down to his eldest son. Even the second son wouldn't be able to get his hands on them - and they would be passed down like this from generation to generation... If the tradition was unfortunately broken, it would be a major event that would attract the attention of the steward or even the lord.
When they left Tripoli, they had such a messenger with them, who was responsible for taking them to Azaz. Unfortunately, the messenger broke his neck and abandoned them in a strange place. If Geoffrey had not often taken this route, they would not even know where Azaz was... let alone other villages and settlements.
------
"What are you looking at? Looking at the snow?"
Baldwin turned around and saw Heraclius standing behind him. The gaunt monk stared at the prince and asked in a low voice, "Are you thinking about Cesar?"
"Yes..." Baldwin said, "I even feel a little regretful, teacher. The snow has not stopped, and they have walked so far." If he had made his request at the beginning, Cesar might only need to search Jaffa or Caesarea, and at most would only go to Acre. But by the third day, the Knights' manpower had spread throughout the Alaska Road, heading towards Tripoli and Antioch. They could only send Cesar in the direction of Tarsus, and the team was left with only the Knights Templar - if possible, Baldwin certainly hoped that Cesar could follow the ranks of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre.
"You must trust him," Heraclius said. "He is working for you."
At the same time, he couldn't help but sigh in his heart. It was no wonder that Amalric I was wary of such a young child. They originally guessed that he would be the son of a count, but now it seems that even the princes in the court may not have the vision, courage and boldness like Cesar.
To put it simply, Witt was still the son of a knight at that time. As soon as he was sent to the prince, he couldn't wait to give up on himself. His rat-like eyes could only see a few silver coins, some barbecues, a few barrels of beer and a few beautiful women. He never thought that if he could get the favor of the prince and the king, his future would be so bright!
What about Cesar? Let Heraclius say that no one could be in a worse situation than he was originally, but it was this child who didn't even have a surname, who could actually make people like him wherever he went - anyone else would have been complacent and proud, but he still behaved steadily and had a clear mind.
He even knew where his biggest weakness was and immediately took action to remedy it.
When he returned from Calvary, even Heraclius thought that this was enough, and perhaps Prince Baldwin also thought so. He happily took Cesar's arm, regarded him as another brother, and brought him in front of everyone. Indeed, with this asceticism and good deeds, he was qualified to be a prince's attendant, but what if Amalric I died unfortunately, and Prince Baldwin became the king of Alaska as the former promised?
King Alazarus, the guardian of the Holy Sepulchre, the leader of the Crusaders, and a prince who is in danger of losing his position at any time are two completely different concepts. The difference between them is enough to make people forget their fear of leprosy.
By then, earls, grand dukes, and princes will come in droves, and there will be no room for a servant!
So Cesar had to go. He had no one to rely on, and his only asset was the relationship between him and Baldwin.
(End of this chapter)
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