CHAPTER 57: ELIMINATING BANDITS

Chapter 57: Eliminating Bandits

Castellan Leonard, terrified, clung to this lifeline and quickly asked, "Milord, what should I do?"

Lothar questioned him in detail: "First, tell me, how exactly did these desert bandits target you? Whom did you encounter on the way to Montreal? And who all knew you were carrying a large sum of Solidi?"

Leonard stammered, "It was like this... yes, ah, when I set out, only the five soldiers I took with me knew about it. They have been stationed at Jorgklusburg for a very long time and are absolutely loyal and reliable. Because when I used to deliver taxes, I was never robbed..."

"That village where half the inhabitants are infidels is called Antoga. It’s the closest to Montreal, so we passed through there and requested water."

"I don’t know if anyone among them discovered I was carrying many Solidi, because I kept the money on my person at all times. But the crisp jingling sound from the coin pouch was something I couldn’t hide."

Leonard’s panic gradually subsided, and he began to carefully recall everything he had experienced, down to the smallest detail, even mentioning how many times he had urinated along the way.

"Alright, then I have one last question for you. While you were traveling, was there an eagle constantly circling above your heads?"

Leonard was aghast. "Milord, how did you know? I thought it was the Heavenly Father’s will, causing your emblem to manifest as a black eagle watching over us!"

Lothar waved his hand. "Alright, I understand. Next, you are to go and spread a piece of news far and wide: Baron Lothar of Jorgklusburg intends to carry a lavish gift to Kerak Castle to visit the esteemed Countess Stephanie."

Lothar patted Leonard’s shoulder. "If you mess up such a simple matter again, after you die, I won’t even have someone place a cross on your tombstone."

Leonard trembled. If, after death, there wasn’t even a cross on one’s tombstone, one was fated never to return to the Heavenly Father’s embrace. "I will, I will definitely handle it well!"

Lothar added, "The same goes for your men. Tell them the consequences. The Heavenly Father will bestow mercy upon you, but mercy will not descend upon the head of a Judas."

Watching Leonard’s retreating back as he carefully departed, Lothar asked, "Fringilla, was everything he said true?"

The young woman, hanging upside down from the ceiling like a bat, descended as silently as a ghost. "It’s true. But isn’t your plan a bit too crude? If I were that bandit chief, I would definitely lay low for a while; at the very least, I wouldn’t make another move anytime soon."

Lothar nodded. "You have a point. A conventional trap definitely wouldn’t work. Although Raynald is brutal and radical, he is a good general; otherwise, he couldn’t have played such a crucial role in the Battle of Montgisard. Disguising as a merchant caravan, lying in wait—I believe he could also come up with such a tactic."

"But these desert bandits have a falcon; they can see our true strength. And—having had things their way for so many years, with even Raynald, the King of the Dead Sea, unable to do anything to them, do you think this bandit gang would have any regard for a minor lord of a remote place like me?"

"I will only bring Hans and his Winged Hussars. Apart from them, it will just be you and Banu. This kind of tactic can only be used by us. Under normal circumstances, this band of robbers certainly wouldn’t fear a mere seven people, even if five of them are fully armed cavalry."

"So that’s how it is." The plan was now very clear. "We are not seeking annihilation, just to kill most of them." Fringilla said thoughtfully, "And leave one or two alive, so I can use my charm ability to interrogate them about the location of their camp."

"Exactly."

Just then, faint footsteps were heard from the corridor outside the door. Banu, wrapped in a bathrobe, her slender, fair feet bare, walked in from outside. Seemingly sensing the serious atmosphere, she tilted her head slightly, her long, smooth black hair cascading down like a waterfall. "Did I miss something?"

Lothar struggled to avert his gaze from that expanse of white. "I’ll tell you later. Get dressed first."

Banu’s indifferent eyes swept fleetingly over Fringilla, causing the little vampire miss to grit her small white teeth in anger. ’So, what if her chest is a bit bigger, her butt a bit rounder, and her legs a bit longer? What’s so great about that!’

Lothar turned his back. The sound of rustling clothes followed. Banu took clothes from the wardrobe and changed.

"Done?"

"Mm."

"You two, come with me to the chapel."

Fringilla frowned. "Milord, are you sure you want a vampire like me to accompany you to pray? Aren’t you afraid the old Heavenly Father will strike us down with a bolt of divine lightning?"

Lothar uttered a blasphemous statement without a care, "If the Heavenly Father concerned Himself with such things, then He wouldn’t be the Heavenly Father."

They entered the chapel together. In Lothar’s hands, a white statue appeared: it had a halo, held a crusader’s arming sword and a kite shield, and had wings sprouting from its back.

It was likely a statue of Saint Michael.

Lothar placed this statue on the altar at the far end of the chapel, beneath the mosaic icon. Under the sunlight, the white statue seemed to gleam like a golden deity, subconsciously inspiring a desire to worship.

"It can make my subjects more loyal to me," Lothar explained.

He sighed inwardly; he might truly be well on his way down the path of "Yuri" the bald mastermind.

***

At dusk, the sky had dimmed somewhat, but the temperature hadn’t dropped. The earth, having been scorched all day, began to release its accumulated heat.

Hans and the three Winged Hussars, including Ulm, followed behind Lothar. These young cavalrymen were clad in half-plate armor, polished bright as a mirror and well-maintained. Each man held a three-meter-long lance, and the wing decorations on their backs made them look even more imposing and awe-inspiring.

The Winged Hussars’ lances were too long—even the shortest were four meters—and thus were hollow, pieced together from two sections of fir wood, making them prone to breaking. Such lances weren’t practical; at least, Lothar’s fief couldn’t manufacture or purchase these specialized weapons. So, Lothar had ordered them to switch to traditional lances, which were more practical and easier to replace.

The two ladies, Banu and Fringilla, stayed by Lothar’s side. Castellan Leonard drove the cart, which was laden with "valuable" goods covered by a felt cloth. He was the only unplanned addition to the party. If he could survive this attack, his and his subordinates’ transgressions would be wiped clean.

In the sky, with a clear cry, a falcon beat its wings and flew, as if echoing the black eagle flag flying high on the cart. Lothar glanced at the falcon in the sky. He impassively lowered his head, a trace of coldness flickering in his eyes.

In the distance, desert light cavalrymen on swift horses, upon seeing the gleaming armor that almost reflected light, had their eyes fill with greed. "They really only have five cavalrymen."

"Of course. Never doubt what the chief sees with his falcon."

"You go inform the chief. I’ll keep an eye on them."

"Don’t let them get away! This arrogant Baron of Jorgklusburg, surely he doesn’t think that just because we robbed his subordinates once, we wouldn’t do it a second time so soon?" a Bedouin wrapped in a white headscarf sneered.

"I heard that cart is filled with gifts for that bitch Stephanie. That damned woman has hanged many of our brothers."

"Perhaps the chief will agree to send that foolish baron’s head to that bitch as a gift."

"No, impossible. The chief is very grateful to this baron for treating our people (fellow Zoroastrians) with impartiality. He won’t kill this baron."

The Bedouin said with some dissatisfaction, "These Franks slaughtered our people without batting an eye! Do we need to show them any righteousness?"

*****

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