Chapter 87: The Transaction
When Prince Jandar saw the troop of fully armored cavalryn, lances in hand, charging straight for them on the road out of the city, he knew he was exposed.
His Ghazi warriors all reached into their bosoms, where they kept the Beast Blood concocted by their tribal shamans. Drinking it would allow them to unleash terrifying power, several tis their usual strength.
Of course, the price was also extrely heavy. The Beast Blood’s duration was limited, and after the burst of power, everyone would fall into a prolonged state of weakness.
Those cavalryn with feather decorations on their backs held their lances, blocking their path ahead. Behind them were heavy infantryn, wielding two-handed axes, clad in who-knows-how-many layers of dark chainmail, an awe-inspiring sight.
These cunning Franks had actually laid a trap with no escape.
Lothar raised his lance, pointing it at the opposite party. "Surrender, Turks! I knew there was sothing off about you that night, but I didn’t expect you’d actually dare to make a move."
’Clang—’ Swords and blades were drawn. The dozen or so Ghazi warriors guarding Prince Jandar tensely adopted defensive stances.
But they knew very well that even if they drank the Beast Blood, death was certain for them today. It was impossible for them to defeat a cavalry troop on this unsheltered street and then fight a bloody path out of the city for their master.
Moreover, Lothar had specifically chosen an unfrequented street to corner them, dashing any possibility of the Turks inciting chaos and escaping in the confusion.
Prince Jandar suddenly shouted, "We can talk!" He spoke extrely quickly, as if fearing Lothar would give the order to attack the very next mont.
"The werewolf’s corpse has already been dismbered by us! We wanted its corpse to create a type of potion—for you Franks, it has already lost its value! Even if you take it back, it can no longer serve as a holy relic!"
Lothar sneered. "So?"
Jandar shouted loudly, "We are willing to pay! We will hand over all the gold and silver treasures we have on us, as well as the mounts and pack animals we have stabled at our lodgings!"
Lothar snorted coldly. "You’re quite foolish! If I kill you, all these things will be mine anyway."
Jandar paused, then shouted again, "But you must know, we are from a Turkic tribe that still adheres to ancient traditions. Our shamans command mysterious supernatural powers! That is why we sought the werewolf corpse. I swear by Tengri, the Eternal Heaven, if we fight to the death, you will lose at least half your n! So, letting us leave is more beneficial for both you and us!"
(Note: I have ntioned this before but just in case that soone might have missed it, I will say it again.
Tengriism, is a religion, specifically a traditional belief system of Turkic and Mongolian peoples. It’s a form of shamanism, totemism, and animism centered around the worship of the sky god Tengri.)
Lothar glanced at Fringilla. She imdiately whispered, "There is indeed a strange aura. But with and the big dummy here, if a fight truly breaks out, we probably wouldn’t lose many n."
’"Not lose many n" is exactly how many?’ Lothar weighed his options for a mont, then said, "If you had proposed a transaction at the very beginning, perhaps I would have agreed. However, you chose shaful theft and only proposed a deal after being discovered. If I agree to this, where does that leave the laws of Jerusalem? And how would I explain myself to a high-ranking and powerful clergyman like Archbishop William?"
Prince Jandar said nervously, "What exactly do you want? Just say it plainly! We have already offered you everything we have! If we can’t reach an agreent then know this—the children of Tengri will never fear death!"
Lothar said bluntly, "You need to add more."
Prince Jandar said angrily, "But we’ve already decided to give you all our wealth! Surely you don’t also want us to sell ourselves into slavery and work ourselves to death for you? I tell you, that’s impossible! The children of Tengri are eagles that soar freely; they will never humiliatingly serve an infidel like you!"
Lothar pondered for a mont, then said, sowhat unwilling to give up, "Add a little more, for example, potion recipes, or the occult knowledge your shamans possess?"
Prince Jandar refused outright. "No, impossible! Those are things only the shamans within our tribe know. We cannot possibly reveal them to you."
Seeing there was truly no more oil to squeeze, Lothar hesitated for a mont, then said, "Alright. I swear in the na of the Heavenly Father, as long as you lay down your arms and hand over all your valuables, I will permit you to leave Jerusalem."
Prince Jandar let out a long sigh of relief. "Lay down your arms! I’ve heard of this Lothar. He is a pious man; the oath of such a person is credible."
"Pfft—" Lothar glared in the direction of the sound, only to find it was Fringilla. She coughed lightly and said, covering it up, "I choked on my own saliva."
Lothar sent soldiers to escort them back to the inn where they were staying and retrieved the leather goods, gold and silver currency, gemstones, valuable clothing, and other items they had brought. A rough estimate put their value at around five hundred Solidi—quite a considerable sum.
Lothar even specifically left them so coins, barely enough for their food and lodging for the next few days. As for what consequences Archbishop William might face because of this, he didn’t care.
In any case, he had won big ti. A single werewolf corpse had brought him both prestige and wealth; he had gained both face and substance. A deal in which only Archbishop William suffered had been achieved!
Before parting, Prince Jandar asked with so confusion, "By the way, I have a question for you. What is ’Tuah’? I an, the aning of that password you set for the church guards, sothing like ’Hawk’ and ’Tuah’?"
A rare, peculiar expression appeared on Lothar’s face. He pondered for a mont, then spouted nonsense, "It’s Old Norse, aning to emphasize the importance of Jerusalem to Christians."
"I understand." Prince Jandar showed a look of sudden realization. "Then farewell, Baron Lothar. You are a greedy man, but also a very trustworthy one. I am willing to deal with a Frank like you. One day, perhaps we will et again. Let’s hope we are not enemies then."
"Heh, if we are to be enemies, I hope you’ll still have enough money on you then."
Lothar’s party watched the Turks depart. Fringilla asked with so confusion, "If we don’t act now, they’ll really get away!"
Lothar shook his head. "They’ve been squeezed dry. Didn’t you see they can only leave on foot? What benefit is there for us in killing them all?"
These Turks were just thieves, not vicious murderers out for blood; a "fine" was sufficient.
***
As they were returning to the city, a cavalryman covered in dust galloped through the streets, shouting as he rode, "Saladin is here! His grand army is attacking from the east, about to approach the walls of Kerak Castle!"
Lothar paused. ’This day has finally co.’
He swung himself onto his horse and said very quickly, "Hans, you return to the Knightly Order first! Order all mbers, whether sergeants, enfeoffed knights, or hired knights, to return to their respective posts and camps imdiately, ready to leave Jerusalem for battle at any ti! Fringilla, Banu, co with to the Great Council! Raynald’s call for aid must have already been presented before His Majesty. The most urgent matter now is to strive for a more advantageous position and authority within the departing army!"
Originally, the commander of the departing army would inevitably have been chosen from the mbers of the Queen Mother’s Party; after all, the number of nobles rallying behind them was simply too great. If the commander were soone else, they would never accept it.
But one had to rember, the key figure of the Queen Mother’s Party, Count Raynald of Oultrejordain, was now besieged by the enemy and could under no circumstances serve as commander.
If they could push for Baron Godfrey, who currently held the highest prestige among those remaining in the city, to be the commander of the grand army, it would undoubtedly be most beneficial for Lothar.
In Lothar’s mories from his previous life, the one who fought Saladin was Guy, who had already married Sibylla and ascended to the throne of Jerusalem.
His foolishness and eagerness to prove himself and suppress various opposing forces had led to the Battle of Hattin, where almost the entirety of Jerusalem’s main force was lost.
This amply demonstrated how terrifyingly destructive a foolish commander could be to an army.
Although Baron Godfrey might not possess exceptional command talent, at the very least, he could listen to Lothar’s counsel, and Lothar would have so leeway in the tasks assigned.
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