kingdom of nations

Chapter 55 Visitors to the Eagle's Nest (Part ) (Additional updates with recommended votes!)

The young knight was handsome, tall, and had a warm smile on his face, which made people feel good at first sight.

But what didn't match his handsome face was his overly muscular figure. His shoulders were so broad that two children could sit on each side, and when his arms hung down, they could almost touch his knees.

Such long arms would definitely give him an advantage in battle that others don't have. After all, no skill is better than hitting your enemy before he hits you.

The knight walked up to Baldwin and Cesar, carefully observing their clothing and expressions, and paused for a moment at the two golden crosses. Then he looked into their eyes, a pair of blue eyes, a pair of green eyes, and immediately remembered something. His attitude became more respectful, and his voice became softer.

He half-knelt down, as if afraid of scaring them, "Why are you here? Do you have an appointment with someone?"

"We just wanted to see the work of a squire," Cesar told him honestly. "We'll soon be squires too."

"Are you about to become squires?" the young knight asked. "Are you already fourteen years old?"

"Not yet," Baldwin said. "Since you've recognized us, you should know that we've all been blessed by God and have seen the saints. We're ready to go to the battlefield. It might be a little early, but in Alaska, being able to join the battle earlier isn't such a bad thing—you're still young."

The other man laughed heartily. He said, "Yes, I am young, but I honestly served as a squire for seven years, a squire for another seven years, and an apprentice knight for three years before finally becoming a knight."

Cesar silently calculated in his mind, "You just became a knight, right?"

"This is my first tourney since becoming a knight."

Even Baldwin was in disbelief. He had defeated so many people in his first tournament?
"Were these obtained in the melee combat?"

"Not all of them." The young knight followed them, letting them rummage through the piles of mail, helmets, and weapons scattered about. "There are seven or eight of you here, aren't you? Did you receive the crown at the tournament?"

Hearing this, the young knight's squire revealed a hint of uneasiness. He took off his round hat and pointed to his head, which was wrapped in a cloth. "In the last melee, I was hit on the head. My master withdrew from the field, dragged me aside, and gave up the match. Although my master's team won the match, he did not ask for a ransom or other honors."

"Well, well," the young knight interrupted him good-naturedly. "I can't bear to see you bleeding like a broken pitcher. You're my only squire, and if you die, who's going to wash my clothes, polish my armor, and run errands? I don't want to do it myself." He glanced fearfully at the mountain of booty. "I'll definitely give it all to the merchants, no matter how much they pay."

"That won't do," the attendant objected immediately, "You don't know how cunning and wicked these Isaacs are."

The young knight waved his hand. It was obvious that he had no intention of speaking ill of others in a strange land, even if those people were Isaacs.

"I don't think I've introduced myself yet," he said. "I'm English, my two distinguished guests. My name is William Marshal. My grandfather, Gilbert, was a Norman knight who entered England with William the Conqueror. My father was Henry II's stablemaster and presided over knightly duels. I am his second son, and was recently knighted."

I heard that the King of Alaska was marrying the daughter of the Byzantine Emperor and that a month-long tournament was to be held for this purpose. I thought that for a young man, such a sacred starting point would be perfect, so I said goodbye to my father and ran all the way here from London.

I've had a few lucky victories, but they're nothing to write home about. The knights I've fought were all good men. "If, out of carelessness or humility," he waved his hand, "they offered me their armor, I'd accept it. If they truly had difficulties of their own, or vows they were bound to keep, I'd let them go without asking for a ransom."

He invited the two men into the tent and heated a pot of coffee for them on the small stove in the tent. "This is really good stuff," he said in admiration. "After drinking it, I am full of energy and my blood is boiling. Even if I have to fight on horseback for three days and three nights, I will not feel tired at all."

"Have you passed the selection ceremony?"

"Of course. Didn't you hear the heralds proclaim my name loudly at the tournament? They would add the name of the saint I had a vision of before my name, and they wouldn't group unblessed knights with blessed ones. That wouldn't be fair." He asked curiously, "If I'm not mistaken, you didn't go to the tournament?"

"We were still in class before today," Baldwin replied stiffly.

The young knight realized he had asked the wrong question and looked embarrassed. He certainly hadn't expected that such a wonderful event would be so exciting that any parent would have the heart to deny their child a proper look.

But Amalric I could.

He believes both Baldwin and Cesar need some work - although they performed well during the welcoming ceremony.

But after the banquet, the two children were still ordered to stay in the Holy Cross Castle. For the past ten days, they have been training, praying, and learning etiquette, music, and poetry. As long as they open their eyes, there will be endless classes.

Cesar guessed that Amalric I did this because he was worried that there were other undiscovered conspiracies, or that he hid them intentionally to keep them away from a bigger vortex. His guess seemed to be correct. The day they were allowed to leave the Fort of Holy Cross was the day the Byzantines left, and Prince Baldwin was of course among the farewell group.

However, these Byzantines probably didn't care who saw them off. They ran as if they were escaping for their lives, but they didn't know how many of them would die in Manuel I's prison after they returned.

What Caesar didn't know was that Amalric I chose to hide the two children not only because of the Byzantines, but also because of another group of dangerous and difficult enemies visiting.

This matter can be traced back to the "selection ceremony" on January 1th.

Not long ago, the thrilling rebellion not only almost caused Baldwin and Cesar to die from epilepsy and respiratory arrest caused by drug overdose, but also almost took the life of King Amalric I.

The Holy Cross Castle was a castle built with the utmost care by three generations of King Alasar. It was heavily guarded and almost flawless - except for Prince Baldwin who was infected with leprosy - it was difficult for ordinary assassins to get close to him.

But that day, for Baldwin's sake, he rarely stayed outside the castle, which allowed the assassin to break into his bedroom.

Some Templars may have been behind this, but they killed the six Templars guarding outside the Temple Church without hesitation. Amalric I believed that this was to clear the Templars of suspicion, after all, the king was assassinated in their fortress.

Even after the chaos had passed, the Templars, still filled with indignation, appealed to the king, hoping that Amalric I would find the murderer—though it was unknown how many of them were actually playing the thief who was the thief crying "Catch the thief." This was not a difficult task for the king; there were not many who could possess such skill and strength. This style did not belong to the Franks, nor to the Saracens, or rather, not to the Saracens they had encountered on the battlefield.

What's more, there is the dagger left in Amalric I's bedroom.

He knew that there was an organization that was good at quietly placing a dagger with a cold glow at the head of the target's bed when the target was drowsy, as a means of intimidating the enemy.

Although the dagger was not only placed in front of Amalric I's bed, but was intended to be stabbed directly into his chest, there was no difference between the two.

Even without the Templars' request, the king would have sent a letter of accountability to the leader of the organization, asking him why he had betrayed the agreement they had previously made and brazenly attacked him. He swore that he would withdraw all protection from them, regard them as his lifelong enemies, and would never stop until he had trampled them under his hooves.

The reply came quickly, and in the reply letter - the leader of the other side - perhaps it should not be said that they never admitted that they were the "commanders", and only wanted people to call them "elders", and these "elders" brought people not love and comfort, but fear and murder.

The "elder" said that he was not aware of this matter, and he was sure that his men did not disobey the "elder" and dared to attack Amalric I and his successors against his wishes.

But he only became the "elder" in 64, and some forces or opponents were still outside. He begged Amalric I to temporarily calm down his anger and at least listen to his explanation.

He swore to Amalric I that he would find the man who had accepted the bribe and execute the members who had violated the rules one by one - right in front of Amalric I. He could not hand over the members of the Eagle's Nest to the king, but he could let him watch their blood flow into the sand.

In fact, Amalric I also knew that his new ally would not do such a stupid thing.
When he was dealing with this "elder", he was just the manager of the Eagle's Nest-Syria branch. Compared to the Eagle's Nest headquarters far away in Iran, the Syrian branch was surrounded by the Zengid Dynasty, the Christian Kingdom and the Fatimid Dynasty, and was attacked from three sides. He had been trying his best to maintain a balance with these three huge forces, carefully distinguishing every task assigned to him, so as to prevent this isolated little nest from being completely overturned.

Moreover, even Hassan, the founder of Eagle's Nest, would not be easily bribed by money to assassinate a king. They knew very well that if they did so, it would easily trigger a full-scale war. In the final analysis, Eagle's Nest was just a "hall of scholars".

Amalric I would not believe what they said, especially since there was another assassination attempt on Princess Maria during the welcoming ceremony. Although it was confirmed after interrogation that it was an internal struggle among the Byzantines, he did not dare to take it lightly. After the visitors to the Eagle's Nest promised to bring the members who had previously accepted the Patriarch's commission, he restrained Baldwin and Cesar and did not allow them to leave the Castel Santa Croce at will.

It was not until he signed a new contract with the envoys of the "Elders" and supervised their departure that Baldwin and Cesar were briefly free.

"Wait," William suddenly called out to Baldwin and Cesar as they were about to go back as the sky darkened. "Do you have anyone with you?" Baldwin nodded. Of course they did, but they weren't wearing conspicuous burqas, so they weren't very noticeable in this mixed camp. William scratched his hair, or rather, his cap. "Can you wait a moment? Please allow me to take you back."

For a knight, that's exactly what he should do.

Baldwin didn't refuse. William quickly put on his mail and his surcoat. "Did you come on horseback?"

"Yes, outside the camp."

So the young knight, along with the other attendants, escorted Baldwin and Cesar back to the Castel de Santa Croce. He stood at the other end of the drawbridge, watching them enter the castle, and then he sighed deeply.

He hadn't expected to see the king's heir before he even met the king. He had also heard about the misfortunes the prince had encountered—just like Cesar had before. He thought he would see a child with an extreme temperament, suspicious and irritable, but he didn't expect...

If God's blessing and the favor of the saints had allowed him to live longer, it is unknown whether he would gradually become a mediocre person, or whether he would be able to achieve more brilliant achievements than his father Amalric I.

But at this moment, what the young knight was thinking in his heart was that when he returned to London, he must tell this wonderful experience to his little friend Richard.

Prince Richard is the second son of Henry II and is now the Count of Aquitaine. He was born in 57 and vowed to be the greatest knight at the age of seven.

William briefly served as a page to the prince, and although he soon left Richard to accept other duties, the two friends, despite their significant age difference, never stopped exchanging letters.

When Richard heard he was coming to the Holy Land to participate in a tournament hosted by King Alasarus, he longed to go with him. But he was only twelve, still a minor, and Henry II would not choose him until the following year. Regardless, William was unable to take on such a heavy responsibility. He could only regretfully write to Richard's mother, Queen Eleanor, asking her to keep a close eye on little Richard, and then he set off alone.

He guessed that when he returned, he would be met with Richard's angry accusations, and perhaps a few days of cold war.

But he witnessed with his own eyes the brave deeds performed by Prince Baldwin and his attendants at the welcoming ceremony. Their bravery, their tacit understanding, and their piety would surely touch Richard's heart.

He could persuade Richard to stay in his father's castle at least until the selection ceremony was over, and not to keep clamoring to go on the Crusade, causing headaches for Henry II and Queen Eleanor.

When he returned to the camp, his mind was still on the letter he was about to write to Richard. William suddenly felt a little regretful. He should have asked Baldwin for a token or a small gift and sent it to Richard together with the letter.

Richard will be very happy.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice a pilgrim standing by the roadside. Only after the sound of the knight's hooves faded into the distance did the pilgrim slowly remove his hood. He looked like any other pilgrim, old and haggard, with gray hair on his temples.

"Is that the child who was favored by the Christian prophet?"

"Do you think he's a threat?"

"A threat? If... he might be a threat to the Eagle's Nest and even the Saracens, but the man beside him—"

He did not continue speaking, but quietly walked towards the mountains outside the city. The others followed him, like his shadow, silent and loyal.

(End of this chapter)