Chapter 170 Hans and the Forty Thieves
Lothar's territory in Hebron is not like Transjordan, which is full of uninhabited and desolate Gobi.
Along the way the army walked, there were small farms cultivated by tenant farmers; grape plantations established on the south-facing slopes; abandoned lime pits and woodlands that legally belonged to Lothar, but he had never organized hunting.
Peasants and soldiers would even pass by the villages where they belonged, and someone would happily introduce to people where the fields, farms, and orchards they had been assigned were.
In some places, villagers would gather on the roadside to watch the knights in bright clothes and angry horses, and send snacks such as dates to the peasants and soldiers in their own villages.
Although it was their first time to fight, the morale of the peasants and soldiers was quite high. From time to time, the knights followed the leader's orders and shouted exciting tunes.
Hans followed Lothar. This was the first time he saw the knights of the Order under Lothar.
Seeing that they could mobilize the morale of the peasants and soldiers with just a few words, he said with some emotion: "Sir, these knights of your order are really eloquent."
Lothar was somewhat proud of this: "Of course, they were all trained by me personally before going to the fiefdom."
Hans said with some worry: "But is it really reliable to let these recently converted Saracens deal with their former brothers?"
Lothar remembered what she had said to Andreas.
"Hans, Saracens are just like Franks, it's just a regional name."
Lothar smiled and said: "The same is true for Gaul, Albion, and Germania. Do you think the Normans will regard the Gauls as their own race?"
The Normans were a group of Vikings from Scandinavia. They settled in Sicily and northern Gaul and established their own rule. To the locals, they were conquerors and robbers, but not own people.
Lothar said solemnly: "Also, to be on the safe side, most of the people I recruited this time were former serfs - do you know what a serf is?"
"Once you become a slave, you will always be a slave. Maybe you think that slaves can redeem themselves, but where do they get the money? All their work in the land is working for their masters."
"Hans, I gave them freedom, bread, land, and a future - do you think they have any reason not to be loyal to me?"
"Could it be said that a different lord would be more merciful to them? Even a Saracen lord?"
Hans showed an expression of admiration: "No, he will only hang these traitors on the stake and burn them to death."
Lothar added: "No, Hans, if it were a Saracen lord, he would have chosen hanging, torture, or the like, because betrayers are not qualified to die in the fire."
Hans showed admiration: "Sir, I can always learn something by being by your side."
Lothar couldn't help laughing and said: "Hans, it seems that you have been with His Majesty the King for a long time, and your ability to say compliments has also increased a lot."
On the desolate Gobi Desert, a team of pilgrims from Ctesiphon is slowly heading towards Hebron.
They took the northeastern trade route, passing through the oasis on the Joff line, and then all the way south, passing by Kaleborg - this was also an important trade route.
It's just that the passenger flow is much less than the two trade routes that go directly north from the southern Port of Ella via the Red Sea, or the two trade routes that go south from the eastern coast of the Mediterranean.
A young Saracen pilgrim is sitting on the saddle of a Bactrian camel, playing the reed flute.
"Grandpa Mbach, please accompany me too!"
Another old man wearing a white turban laughed and said, "Okay, let's play a song to worship the gods." He carefully picked up the Barbat piano stored in a wooden box, plucked the strings, and started playing.
"Holy fire is supreme!"
The people in the pilgrim team listened to the music, looked pious, and began to sing in unison.
At this moment - a bow and arrow pierced the young pilgrim's eye socket, and he fell off the camel saddle with a thud. The reed flute in his hand was quickly soaked in blood.
"There are robbers!"
The pilgrims let out shrill shouts.
I saw bandits riding dromedary camels and wearing black turbans appearing on the slopes and sand dunes of the originally empty Gobi Desert.
They were armed with sharp straight swords and round shields, and each of them was murderous. A rough count showed that there were at least forty of them!
"Quick, run!"
"Holy fire, when did they appear?"
"Warriors with weapons, gather together and prepare for battle!"
The procession of pilgrims was in chaos.
After a while, the robbers were like a gust of wind, blowing into the group of pilgrims.
Some Persian warriors tried to fight against them, but their number was too small and they were scattered in the team. They had to be distracted from protecting their employers and relatives, and most of them were killed in a short time.
Someone begged: "Holy fire, please spare our lives for the sake of us being pilgrims heading to the Holy Land."
What greeted him was just an ax in the face.
The middle-aged bandit with a beard split his head open in the middle, raised his battle ax high, and showed off his bravery to his companions.
"The holy fire is above, the highest and the greatest!"
The robbers shouted loudly. During this period, they were chased here and there by the damn Hebron patrol officer. This was the first time they had eaten meat after such a long time.
As for what these pilgrims said?
They couldn't understand it at all.
So what if you can understand it?
Some pilgrims riding faster dromedary camels managed to escape the siege of the bandits, but their faces immediately turned pale.
I saw knights in bright armor standing on the hillside not far away.
The cross marks on the robes of those cavalrymen with feathers on their backs are so eye-catching.
"crusader!"
"It's those devils wearing crosses!"
"Holy fire, are we all destined to die here?"
The pilgrims looked desperate. These knights wearing cross coats of arms had long been rumored in the world of Zoroastrianism to be bloodthirsty monsters that could make children stop crying.
This is like stepping out of the wolf's mouth and into the tiger's den.
At this time.
A knight wearing a horned helmet like a bull walked among the cavalry wearing cross marks, and let out a terrifying war cry.
Immediately afterwards, the cavalry on the mountain rushed down the mountain with overwhelming momentum.
The dromedary under their crotches was pacing back and forth in panic.
Seeing the leading "Bull Rider" charging towards them with his lance raised, they couldn't even think of resisting and just chanted "Blessed by the Holy Fire" over and over again.
The sound of horse hooves filled my ears.
But at this moment, it gradually faded away.
The pilgrims opened their eyes in confusion.
When the smoke and dust dissipated, they were still intact, and the Crusader knights were running away into the distance like bows and arrows.
At this time.
A young knight wearing a black cloak and short blond hair stopped in front of them.
The armor worn by this young knight was more elegant, with gold-rimmed dragon patterns and the emblem of a double-headed eagle on it. The smooth surface of the armor shone brightly against the sun.
He said something, his tone gentle.
But none of the pilgrims understood.
A tall woman with black hair, riding a war horse, walked out from behind the man.
From under the woman's veil, a cold, heavenly voice came out: "This is the lord of Hebron, Count Lothar. He said that he has the obligation to protect all pilgrims passing through."
"But only if you pay taxes legally."
The pilgrims immediately spoke one after another: "Dear lady, when we passed the castle with the big oak tree, we paid the toll, we promise!"
The black-haired woman relayed it to the Lord of Hebron wearing a black cloak.
He smiled and nodded to the pilgrims, said another word, and left with his cavalry.
The black-haired woman said: "You guys wait here for a moment. After the bandits are wiped out, you can be reunited with your relatives. I'm sorry that you have suffered bad luck. This is our dereliction of duty."
The pilgrims returned the gift in fear.
Until Lothar and his party left, they still couldn't believe that they were let go so easily.