Chapter 26: Setting Forth
The sea breeze blew gently. In the distance, through a thin veil of mist, a coastal port city, dense with buildings, could be vaguely discerned. A merchant ship with a rounded hull and square sails unfurled was sailing on the Adriatic Sea.
This was a cog. A type of ship brought from Northern Europe by the Normans of Sicily, it quickly adapted to the Mediterranean climate and was widely used for commerce.
A poor friar, dressed in a simple white linen habit and holding a wooden cross, was preaching to the crew and passengers gathered around him.
"Jerusalem, a treasure existing between Heaven and Earth! As an earthly city, it is magnificent beyond compare; as a heavenly city, its glory is peerless."
"Jerusalem, a holy land, is now surrounded by ambitious infidels. The Ayyubids and the Sasanians, these two behemoths, are abominable and despicable demons."
"They destroy God's churches, ignite their so-called 'holy fire' in the center of His temples, blaspheme the sacred Heavenly Father, and kill, plunder, and sell our Christian brethren everywhere."
"Pilgrims on the road to Asia Minor are attacked by the Turkic cavalry they keep, subjected to inhuman abuse, either imprisoned or killed."
"They want to burn the Savior's Holy Sepulchre with fire and seize our earthly paradise, Jerusalem. This is an act that neither Catholics nor Orthodox Christians can tolerate."
"With the weapons in our hands, let us annihilate the infidels, go to that 'land flowing with milk and honey' recorded in the Bible, and atone for your sins! You shall receive the eternal glory of Heaven!"
The people shouted in unison, "It is the will of the Heavenly Father!"
"Amen!"
Lothar, cloaked in a dark red surcoat and surrounded by Hans, Ryan, and Moder, stood among the crowd, praying with a pious expression. He was never a Catholic, nor had he ever believed in any deity. But he felt that since this was a world possessing supernatural powers, perhaps the so-called "Heavenly Father" truly existed. If so, there was no harm in believing a little.
As long as it didn't interfere with his own affairs, he would remain very "devout." If, one day, his wings were fully fledged, he wouldn't shy away from asking, like "Uncle Joe," that classic question: "How many divisions does the Pope have?"
Of course, His Holiness the Pope in this era truly did have many "divisions"! The Papal States occupied vast directly administered territories in the central Apennine Peninsula, and all other major archdioceses were theoretically under papal jurisdiction. Unless absolutely necessary, even with full power, he wouldn't want to fall out with His Holiness the Pope.
The group had only boarded the ship this afternoon. They had risen early this morning to travel from a northern town in Veneto to the southern port to embark. Now, merely two hours after departure, the castles of Romagna could still be seen on the coast.
The friar suddenly pointed to Lothar in the crowd and said, "Lothar von Habsburg—this is a valiant knight from Swabia! Heedless of the obstruction by that godless King Henry, he resolutely embarked on the path to protect the Holy Land! It is his devotion to the Heavenly Father and His Holiness the Pope that urges him to do so. May the Heavenly Father bless you, respected knight!"
Because the Pope had excommunicated Emperor Henry, many clergymen no longer considered the "crown" bestowed by His Holiness the Pope to be effective, hence referring to Henry as "King."
The passengers also cast looks of reverence towards Lothar. "Praise be to you, respected knight!"
The friar, his face wreathed in smiles, invited, "Knight Lothar, please say a few words to everyone. They need your encouragement."
Lothar's expression stiffened slightly. Compared to the Peasant's Crusade, which looked more like famine refugees than an army, the passengers on this cog were somewhat wealthier, including town artisans and urban merchants. Their goal was the same as Lothar's: to go to the Holy Land in response to His Holiness the Pope's call for a Crusade. Lothar didn't want to deceive them or say things he didn't mean. But the crowd's enthusiastic cheers made it difficult for him to refuse.
After pondering for a long time, he slowly began, "This is a great undertaking. For the Heavenly Father, and so that the Holy Land is not defiled by infidels, even if we die in battle, our souls will return to Heaven."
"That's right! Those who die will have their souls return to Heaven, and the living will gain honor!" the friar continued to preach loudly.
As a "devout" crusader knight, Lothar really had no reason not to listen to the sermon, especially since this friar was so enthusiastically praising him and spreading his name. Looking at his new subjects, their eyes, when they looked at Lothar now, were filled with loyalty and awe. In an era where faith was an integral part of people's lives, even if it was a pretense, Lothar had to disguise himself as a devout believer.
Two hooded women sat in the passenger cabin. One tall, one petite. They sat opposite each other, neither paying any attention to the other.
Fringilla, after holding back for a long time, finally couldn't resist speaking, "It's so boring, big dummy! Why does our Lord have to listen to that old man drone on and on?"
Banu lifted her eyes slightly, staring at Fringilla without emotion. She continued to stare until Fringilla felt a little cold, then resumed sitting cross-legged on the wooden bed, lost in thought.
"Hey, Banu, are you a robot? Don't you ever feel bored?" Fringilla swung her little legs back and forth. "You really are a woman with no charm. If you ever end up with our Lord, he'll definitely be driven mad."
Banu frowned, a slight fluctuation finally appearing in her expression. "What nonsense are you talking?"
"Ha, you answered me?" Fringilla looked as if her cunning plan had succeeded. "I knew it! You really do have designs on our Lord! You tricky woman!"
"But let me tell you, it's impossible between you and our Lord."
"Although your chest is large, your butt is also large, your waist is very slim, your skin is very delicate, and you're very pretty..." Fringilla counted on her fingers, then suddenly paused. "Wow, you bad woman, you actually have so many good points? Oh no, maybe there really is a chance!"
Banu's lips tightened slightly, her face still as calm as an old well. She said coldly, "What exactly are you trying to say?"
Fringilla smiled brightly. "The feud between the Blood Court and you is their business; it has nothing to do with me. Banu, just as our Lord said, we will be comrades-in-arms fighting side by side in the future, allies who need to cover each other. I don't want any unpleasantness with you."
Banu frowned. "For me, public matters are public, and private matters are private. No matter how hostile I am towards you, I will not hold back even slightly in battle. So, you need not worry, much less deliberately try to curry favor with me."
A slight smile played on Fringilla's lips, a sly look on her face. "Banu, you really are interested in our Lord. If you truly have designs, this won't do, you know."
"Heh, do you think by saying that, I will become shy like an ordinary little girl from the mortal world?" Banu said expressionlessly. "Towards our Lord, I only have the feelings a comrade-in-arms and a subordinate should have, not the 'designs' you speak of."
"Really? I don't believe you!" Fringilla teased.
"Whether you believe it or not has nothing to do with me." Banu closed her eyes, this time falling completely silent.
Fringilla, however, looked as smug as a little fox that had successfully stolen a chicken, a cunning smile on her face. 'If Banu truly didn't care at all, she wouldn't have even responded to her provocations. But then, a sense of urgency arose within her. Our Lord should be mine; I can't let her get him first!