Medieval Gacha Lord
Chapter 105: A Call for Help
CHAPTER 105: A CALL FOR HELP
Chapter 105: A Call for Help
Outside the window, a sudden clamor arose. Lothar hurriedly rushed downstairs, his expression somewhat puzzled. "What’s going on?"
Someone said indignantly, "Knight Pepin wants to duel a Montreal knight! The cause was him questioning our honor, even though we clearly captured the Saracen prince!"
Lothar frowned. ’Sure enough, I knew this bunch of grunts would forget my order and would reveal that I captured Prince Zahir the moment they had a drink.’
This Pepin was, of course, not the famous Short King of the Franks, but a valiant knight of the Royal Knights. In the battlefield, he had emerged unscathed and slain two elite Mamluk cavalrymen—a rare achievement.
Lothar didn’t stop them, instead saying loudly, "Then let them duel! A knight’s honor must not be defiled! Let the Heavenly Father witness who is more worthy to live!"
Pepin glanced at Lothar and said excitedly, "Exactly! On the battlefield, I can kill Saracen slave cavalry like slaughtering chickens! Crushing a soft-shelled egg like you is even easier!"
"J-just because of this, you want to duel?" The Montreal knights opposite looked ashen-faced, stammering, their initial arrogance completely gone. This was how it was in this era; no matter how sharp your tongue, if your opponent directly threw down his gauntlet and wanted to duel you, everything still came down to martial skill.
"But the duel is for tomorrow! For now, everyone immediately return to your respective rooms and rest! If I find out anyone dares to disobey my orders, I guarantee I will hang him from the gallows!" Lothar said loudly, "Ryan, Moder, you two immediately lead the Axe Guards on patrol and inform everyone of my orders!"
"As you will, Grand Master!" the two immediately responded.
Lothar glanced at the several Montreal knights opposite, then shifted his gaze away with some disdain. He had no desire to even speak with them; their status was simply not equal.
"Sir Lothar, may I speak with you?" Someone approached Lothar from behind and said in a low voice. He deliberately showed the signet in his hand for Lothar to see.
Lothar snorted coldly. "You are one of Count Raynald’s men?"
"Yes, Milord."
Lothar was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Come with me."
They went to a secret room in the inn. Next door was the room where Prince Zahir was being held. Hans, leading the Winged Hussars, guarded this prince at all times. Those who came off rotation would rest in this room; after all, this was equivalent to an enormous fortune of two thousand Solidus gold coins. Moreover, if any accident occurred, it would mean he and Saladin would be locked in a feud to the death.
"Hans, you come over too."
In the secret room, Lothar, Hans, Banu, and Fringilla all took their seats. This world was not simple, filled with witchcraft, evil gods, malevolent spirits, curses... all sorts of sinister things. He dared not be alone in a room with a stranger.
’Such a grand lineup?’ The man swallowed hard and said cautiously, "Milord, I am Count Raynald’s personal manservant. I humbly represent my master, Count Raynald and Countess Stephanie, to implore you to immediately dispatch reinforcements to relieve Kerak Castle."
After speaking, he quickly added, "Please don’t be quick to refuse, Milord! I know there are some misunderstandings between you and my master, but now that the Kingdom is in peril, how can such small misunderstandings affect the great cause of the Crusade? My master has already said that if you can set out immediately, he is willing to support Sir Balian in marrying Princess Sibylla."
’Yeah, like I’d believe you.’
Lothar showed a "kind" smile. "I have an excellent relationship with Count Raynald; where would any misunderstanding come from? It’s all just baseless rumors spread by others."
No matter what others said, he would absolutely not admit to any friction with Count Raynald, lest he be accused one day of letting private affairs interfere with public duty.
"It’s just that you should still seek help elsewhere. I was among the first Crusaders to arrive in Montreal; you should know I am by no means one for delays. But the troops under my command have suffered heavy losses and are unable to continue fighting. Moreover, desert marching is difficult. If my sergeants are truly forced to set out immediately for Kerak, I’m afraid my position as Grand Master might become unstable."
The man said in a low voice, "But you should also know, Milord, that Kerak is the gateway to the Kingdom. Once it falls, Saladin’s grand army will sweep through unimpeded, and your fief will not last a single day."
Lothar said gravely, "With infidels invading on two fronts, the Kingdom’s situation is as precarious as a pile of eggs. At a time like this, how can I have the mind to consider the survival of my own fief?"
Seeing that Lothar was impervious to both hard and soft persuasion, the envoy said in a low voice, "Lord Raynald has already said, he will grant the fief of Hebron to the commander of the first relief force to enter Kerak. He will also offer a reward of ten Denarii for each sergeant and one hundred Denarii for each knight."
Lothar frowned, pondered for a moment, and said, "Why didn’t you just say so earlier? In that case, we depart for Kerak tomorrow!" Lothar paused, then said, "Envoy, you should also continue west to inform the other Crusader lords of this matter, correct?"
"Correct, Milord."
"The situation is urgent. You should set out at once." Lothar waved his hand, signaling him to leave.
"Thank you for your help! May you reach Kerak soon and obtain the noble comital title of Hebron! My master will surely treat you as a dear friend in the future!"
The envoy felt no suspicion; in his eyes, this was the most correct choice. No matter how many soldiers under one’s command died, it couldn’t compare to a rich fief. What was possessing an armed force without a fief? At best, it was just a mercenary company!
Not to mention, this armed force wasn’t even Lothar’s private army; its ownership lay with His Majesty the King. Even if the entire army was wiped out, if it could be exchanged for a rich fief like Hebron, it wasn’t a loss at all.
After the envoy departed, Hans finally spoke, "Milord, are you really going to...?" System-made retainers were undoubtedly loyal, but that didn’t mean they were puppets devoid of their own souls.
Lothar waved his hand and sneered. "No rush. First, gather supplies, rest and recuperate for a few days, then we’ll talk. Count Raynald is playing word games. Kerak is currently surrounded by Saladin’s thirty thousand-strong army. Who can break through the siege and be the ’first’ to enter the city? The fief of Hebron, heh, it sounds tempting indeed, but unfortunately, it’s a poisoned fruit. Besides, Count Raynald’s reputation as an ’oath-breaker’ is infamous among the infidels. I don’t believe for a moment he would honestly hand over Hebron."
Hebron, like Jerusalem, was also a holy city for three faiths. The tax revenue it provided to Count Raynald was the bedrock of his "King of the Dead Sea" title. The lordship of Hebron meant a comital title; this didn’t depend on the size of a city, but on its significance.
The first Guardian of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, Godfrey of Bouillon, was Jerusalem’s uncrowned king. But the territory he ruled was clearly not as vast as that of a true king. Why was he still regarded by people as the King of the Holy Land? Precisely because he occupied Jerusalem.
As for Viscount, a rank between Count and Baron? It didn’t exist in this era yet. Of course, some court barons, i.e., barons holding certain official posts, could be regarded as viscounts.
The same applied to Marquis. Some counts of special status, like the Margrave of Austria or the Count Palatine of the Rhine, could be translated as marquises, but they were not substantively different from counts.