kingdom of nations

Chapter 63: The Little Fishes (Part ) (Special thanks to the leader Mo Yexiang for the extra update!)
The owner of Tortosa Castle finally set his eyes on Cesar. Although he regarded his arrival as a shame, when he saw the child, he couldn't help but admire him in his heart.

This castle existed solely for military purposes. Even though the sun was shining brightly outside, the fortress was still dark and gloomy, but he still looked like a shining pearl standing there.

Walter had seen many beauties in the king's court and the lord's castle, but to have one so outstanding was truly astonishing. It was either God doing his best or the devil sparing no effort. In short, it was absolutely impossible for humans to give birth to such a perfect creation.

The expressions of the other knight stewards around him had already relaxed, as if they were waiting for such an excuse. Walter suspected that even if Geoffrey said that he had just picked up a stone outside the castle and that the stone was engraved with the words that this person was blessed by God, these people would believe it.

Even so, Walter only tilted his head slightly to look at his attendant behind him. Walter's attendant was also a smart and handsome young man. He immediately understood what he meant and stood up to speak to the incredibly young messenger, "What news did Amalric I ask you to bring?"

"If you are asking for the will of Amalric I—the king wants you to surrender, lower your banners, lay down your weapons, remove your armor, come to the gate with the keys of the castle, and bow your head to apologize to him."

Walter let out a loud laugh. He looked at the Knight Stewards sitting on either side and, as expected, saw traces of anger on their faces.

He glanced at Geoffrey again, as if to say, "Look, look, this is what you promised."

Geoffrey's face was as hard as a city wall, and he didn't care at all about the look Walter gave him.

"We serve the Lord of Heaven, not earthly kings. We have no obligation to Amalric I, King of Alaska, and he has no authority over us. We only obey the commands of God, or those who represent Him."

The squire said this and looked at Walter again. Walter nodded, and he continued, "Since our brothers are willing to guarantee you, you can leave this castle, but only you. Be thankful, child, we won't cover you with asphalt and stick feathers on you. God's creation should not be ruined like this."

He paused. "We will give you food and water, and an old horse, and you will return to your prince, suffering greatly, but alive."

Then, something happened that he couldn't understand. The child messenger suddenly took a step back. They thought he would kneel down and thank them for their tolerance, but he took off his white robe embroidered with a yellow Alasar cross, revealing the chain mail underneath.

This chain mail was of course made by craftsmen urgently summoned by Baldwin according to his body shape (they were still in the growth stage, and the chain mail should be made after their bodies were fully formed). Not only was it made of fine materials and solid workmanship, it was also plated with a layer of silver, which made his face shine and impossible to look directly at.

They only heard him say, "I have completed the mission entrusted by the king and am no longer the messenger of Amalric I, but I will speak for others and be their messenger."

"The others," asked one of the knights' stewards amusedly, "who are they? Saracens?"

"Perhaps, Saracens, Isaacs, Christians, anyone, unarmed, kind-hearted, will pay a heavy price for this war without receiving any reward."

"Geoffrey, is the man you brought here an ascetic?" asked another knight steward in a puzzling tone.

"Well, well," Geoffrey said, poking the air with his finger, "they call him the little saint."

"Isn't this Amalric I building up momentum for his son?" Walter said without any concealment.

"That's partly true." Geoffrey looked up at the sky. "But there are also some things that are true. He is such a stubborn guy."

Walter's followers were at a loss. They might have had their own ideas, but on the surface, and perhaps in their hearts, they had indeed come here for God, to protect the pilgrims who were being persecuted and looted by the pagans.

Now, standing in front of them was a man who spoke for the dust, grass, and livestock that no one cared about. These people, like Amalric I, were in disbelief. Several knight stewards even subconsciously looked at the dark ceiling, wondering if a crack would appear, and bright holy light and a few angels would shine out from it.

No, there was only a mortal standing there.

Like Amalric I, Walter began to carefully examine the child in front of him. At the same time, César was also observing him. He had learned about this person from Geoffrey before. In fact, from his previous behavior, it can be seen that he is a willful and self-righteous guy.

It is true that he accepted the peace treaty with the Saracens, but he did not think that it was a compromise with the pagans or a betrayal of God. He was just like those lords and bishops, enslaving and ruling the pagans in these territories and asking them to work for the Christians.

Therefore, when Amalric I also reached peace with the Eagle's Nest and abandoned the peace treaty between the Knights Templar and the latter, he was as angry as a lord whose people were taken away, especially since these "people" were pagan slaves as he thought, rather than free Christians.

He despised Amalric I because he actually talked about getting along with a group of pagans on an equal footing, and he was not even as good as a small knight.

"So now, as the messenger of those..." Walter seemed to want to smile tolerantly, but finally gave up: "What do you want to say to me, those devout Christians?"

The child was silent for a moment before asking, "Have you decided to wage a protracted siege against King Amalric I in this castle?"

"Yes," Walter replied, "Amalric I's spear will break in pieces against this solid shield."

"Then you should know that in this war, more Christian lives are being wasted."

"This is their duty and responsibility, for God."

"Are you sure their sacrifice was for God?"

A dangerous look appeared on Walter’s face: “Are you trying to accuse me?”

Cesar didn't answer his question. "I heard there are three villages and a small town around this castle. Where are the people in those villages? Are they in this castle now?"

Of course it was impossible. If Walter allowed so many people to stay in the castle, not to mention whether it could accommodate them, the consumption of these people alone would allow Amalric I to win without a fight.

"They are the people you swore to protect," Cesar continued, "and you decided to sacrifice them not for God. If you had taken up your sword for God, you would not have stayed in the castle. Instead, you would have raised your banner, mounted your horse, and faced the Saracens and even Amalric I face to face." At this moment, a hateful smile appeared on the lips of the black-haired child. "But you did not do that. Perhaps you also understood that if you did so, you, your knights, and your army would be completely destroyed by your enemies in a single encounter."

Geoffrey heard someone gasp.

Walter was stunned for a moment, as if he didn’t expect that someone would mock him so unscrupulously in front of him.

When he understood the meaning of this sentence, he couldn't help but get furious. He stood up from his chair and walked fiercely in front of Cesar. The Knights Templar all had tall, strong and sturdy bodies, and Walter was no exception. He could even be regarded as the best among the knights, on par with William Marshall.

As for his face, you could say it was carved from stone or cast from black iron. If he had a beard, he might not look so ferocious, but without the beard, it was like an angular hammer head, with no flat or smooth upper or lower jaw or cheekbones, which could not be concealed.

Along with it comes the smell. Of course, in this era, smell is the most unavoidable, especially for knights - when you are dressed so tightly (only the part below the abdomen and above the thighs can breathe), after riding a horse or swinging a sword continuously for a while, the smell may pickle the stone.

And there was another smell about Walter, like the smell of blood long after it had congealed in steel - it might not be nauseating, but it would make you cold all over.

Walter lowered his head and stared at the face, which was unadorned and unconcealed. He knew that some knights would even imitate women by applying makeup...

"You should thank God for his favor on you, child. However," he said in a deep voice, "this is the second time. You'd better shut up and remain silent. Whether you represent Amalric I or those pilgrims—this is the last chance I give you."

Cesar met his gaze without a trace of fear.

"Have you seen your end? Whether you fight outside the city like a knight, or hide in the castle, using the lives of countless innocents as guarantees for you, gambling on Amalric I's possible concessions, you are doomed to fail. That's why you are afraid and trembling..."

"enough!"

Walter shouted sternly, he stretched out his huge palm and grabbed Cesar's neck: "Fool, I don't know what kind of good people you meet, but I am not the kind of person who will be restrained by other people's words or pleading!
I tell you, to me, food, women and wine are all dispensable things. I only believe in my God and my sword.

When will I feel joy? That is when I stand with my brothers, those brothers who are not cowards, with our horses touching heads and shoulders touching shoulders, and shout together, "O Lord, Lord, not to us, not to us, but to your name be the glory, for your lovingkindness and your truth," and then rush towards those hateful pagans and heretics!
No matter they are old, children, women or men, we kill everyone we see just like a farmer cuts down wheat and a child destroys a sand castle! Until the blood flowing from the corpses reaches my knees!

You won't be the first child I kill, nor will you be the last!"

For a moment, many people in the hall started shouting, some were shouting "Oh!" and others were shouting "Beg for mercy!" Not only Geoffrey, but even the knights' stewards couldn't help but stand up and plead for César.

They did not dare to touch Walter who was in a rage, but they were all trying to persuade Cesar, lest this young man, who was like a tender fruit on a branch, really die here. But before they finished their words, Walter felt something was wrong - indeed, as he said, he had killed children and women, and had strangled many people by the neck. He was familiar with this touch and the struggle that followed - but none of these happened.

When Cesar stretched out his hand, he had already lowered his head slightly, raised his shoulders, and tensed his body. Walter thought he was lifting him up, but in fact it was Cesar who used his strength to leap high, clasped his fists with both hands, and kicked the Templar's face with his feet like lightning.

If Cesar was just an ordinary child, this kick might only hurt Walter's self-esteem, but a few breaths ago, he began to pray, and at this moment, a light was flashing on his body, continuously. When he was sure that he had kicked the target, he twisted his body and turned over - there was always an invisible but hard scale between Walter's palm and him. No matter how hard the Templar Knight tried, it was like trying to catch a slippery big fish with an iron glove - in an instant, he fell back to the ground.

Several followers thought he would run away and hurried to the door, but they saw him standing there motionless. They couldn't help but admire his courage.

When everyone thought Walter would become even more furious, he simply wiped the blood from his mouth and nose and asked: "Who is the saint you saw?"

"Saint Jerome."

"Damn Saint Jerome," Walter said.

"What about you? Who did you feel touched by?"

"I don't believe Geoffrey didn't tell you that what I saw was St. Paul." Walter said proudly with his head held high.

St. Paul is probably the saint that knights most hope to see, second only to St. George.

This saint was born a Roman citizen. When he was young, he was very cruel and persecuted Christians several times. But one day, Jesus Christ and an angel appeared before him and made him realize the noble status of Christ and the mystery of His wonderful body. He then repented and not only converted, but also became a great apostle of Christ.

Besides the fact that this saint was once a brave warrior, the knights' worship of him was also due to the church. Before the 11th century, anyone who could arm themselves was a knight. They were of low moral character and rude behavior, little better than thugs. Churches and monasteries, because of their wealth, became the most frequently looted places...

The poor priests could only continue to impose spiritual sanctions on these "knights". "Knights" who robbed churches, attacked priests, and looted merchants would be excommunicated. However, this method was no better than hundreds of years later. The knights were still unscrupulous. Finally, the church could only find a role model for them in the Bible, that is, St. Paul, who had committed a crime but repented early enough and made a brilliant career for Christ.

When the priests read the passages in the Bible about St. Paul, the knights would stand and pay homage to the saint.

There were not many knights who could feel St. Paul, but Walter was one of them, and the favors he received were quite generous - his arrogance was not without basis.

"I did hear about you from Geoffrey," César said calmly, standing only five or six steps away from Walter. "I also know that you have always been proud of the power given to you by Saint Paul, so..."

"what?"

"Since you've always said that the Templars only obey God's orders, are you willing to make a bet with me?"

(End of this chapter)