Chapter 169 Small Peasant Soldiers

"I have indeed studied it."

Fringilla muttered softly: "I'm sorry, sir, I just think that with my current level, it shouldn't lead to such serious consequences."

Lothar reached out and grabbed Fulin's long white hair: "I think so too."

"But next time you can't do experiments in the castle. I can give you an uninhabited manor, or arrange an explosion-proof array in advance."

Fringilla was a little discouraged and said, "Okay, I understand."

Coors smiled and said: "Your Highness, the bath water is ready. You'd better go wash up quickly."

Fringilla responded somewhat unhappily: "Oh."

Watch Fringilla leave.

Lothar looked into the room.

Black mist was lingering in Coors' hands, and the shadows cast by the lights slowly crawled on the ground, and their color tended to be deep red.

When he came to the acid on the ground that was corroding the floor tiles, he opened his mouth and swallowed it. Soon, the acid was cleaned away, leaving only the deep corrosion marks on the masonry.

Lothar nodded slightly to Kors: "Thank you for your hard work, Kors."

Coors shook his head and said: "No, sir, this is my duty. It may be a bit arrogant, but I still want to say, please take more care of Flynn. She may look like a very proud girl, but in fact , I am very sensitive at heart and need companionship.”

Lothar was a little silent.

Of course he knows this.

"I know, thank you for the reminder."

During this period, he indeed spent very little time with Fringilla, because he was often with Jeanne, learning riding skills, practicing swordsmanship, and dealing with affairs in the territory.

And Fringilla was a stupid child who knew nothing about it. When Lothar was dealing with government affairs, she couldn't even understand, let alone talk to him.

Therefore, Fringilla, who thought she was somewhat "useless", began to be patient and researched alchemical potions that could help Lothar.

Otherwise, with her character, where she would feel bored if she couldn't sit still for three seconds, how could she have such perseverance?

…

Return to the room.

Prajna was leaning over the table, dipping his quill in ink carefully and writing something on the paper.

The novel she wants to write is still in its infancy.

There is a thick pile of scrapped manuscripts. If you were an online novel writer who relied on the number of words to make money in your previous life, you would definitely feel heartbroken.

Lothar was a little confused and said: "Prajna, you have too high requirements for yourself. I have read some of your scrap manuscripts. The content is obviously very good, why should you throw them away?"

Prajna was slightly startled and raised his head. There was a little excitement brewing in his plain eyes - have you actually seen it?

As expected, it's just some insignificant content.

Otherwise, his attitude would definitely not be what it is now.

So, she lowered her eyes again.

Long eyelashes cast a row of shadows under the eyes.

She whispered: "Writing is just a process of pleasing myself. Just because I enjoy this process does not mean that I really want to write something."

"Is it because you feel too bored?"

"fine."

Question: What does a woman’s “okay” mean?

Lothar couldn't help but have such a question in his mind. He smiled and said: "Want to play a game of Gwent? Whoever wins? When Fringilla comes back, we will play against her."

Prajna hesitated for a moment, inserted the quill back into the pen holder, tilted his head and stared at Lothar for a long time.

Long black hair hangs down on the side of her fair face.

Lothar looked at her calmly. In terms of appearance, Prajna was really impeccable. Every time she looked at her from a distance, she found it pleasing to the eye.

"All right."

"Just use randomly adjusted boxes, the kind where none of us know the cards in the other's hand."

Lothar took out two boxes of Gwent cards.

The reason why Gwent cards are so popular is also related to their materials.

Not only has the paper texture been improved, making it better than most books, but it has also been covered with a metal frame to avoid bending. The paintings on it are also in a modern realistic style that is different from the painting techniques of this era.

Even if the entertainment function is excluded, it is still a very good collectible.

If engraving and printing had not existed, it is doubtful whether it would have made money.

This has also created a grand occasion in the city of Jerusalem, where even commoners have money to buy a deck of cards for themselves, making this entertainment activity vaguely popular among kings and free people.

As for the serfs?

It’s hard to live, how can you spend money to buy such a thing?

Lothar handed over a box of Gwent cards and said, "Do you want to use guessing to decide which move to take?"

In the Gwent cards he designed, the second player has a clear advantage, so how to decide which move to play first has always been a very serious problem.

"No need, first, in the third round you take the back move, and in the second round I will take the back move."

Prajna is very confident.

She is indeed very strong, and in the whole of Hebron, only Jeanna can fight her resoundingly.

The deck in Lothar's hand is a monster deck. The monsters in it include ghouls, lemures, night monsters, vampires, soul flayers, etc... He is very good at unraveling cards.

The deck held by Prajna is the Jerusalem camp, which is good at team gains.

The current version of Gwent has only two camps, the Kingdom of Jerusalem and the Kingdom of Ayyubid.

Monster camp has not been released yet.

As for the subsequent decks, they are still being polished. Before they are launched, they have to try them out to try to avoid buggy cards.

Reality is not a game, there is no version update.

Once a buggy card is released, it will cause a series of troubles. What's more serious, it will really lead to a bad reputation and the consequences of counterfeit products catching up.

As a professional gamer, Lothar knows this very well.

In a blink of an eye, the last round came.

Seeing Prajna throws out King Baldwin, which boosts all melee cards.

Lothar changed his hands with a Soul Reaper, moving the opposite "King Baldwin" into his own melee column.

With a smile in his eyes, he said: "This style of play is really rebellious."

Prajna nodded and said: "Indeed, but the greater rebelliousness is yet to come."

After that, directly throw out a "Lotha Card" and destroy the "Baldwin IV Card".

Without changing his expression, Lothar threw out a Hell Demon card, resurrected it, and moved it from the graveyard back to the card table - if the devout believers saw their wild playing style in private, they would immediately be He would be so angry that he would vomit blood.

What a blasphemous act!

…

At the break of dawn.

The monastery bells rang.

The melodious chanting of the clergymen who were performing morning prayers could be vaguely heard.

The cold chill brought by the dark night has not yet left with the appearance of the sun.

The iron gate of the castle rumbled up, and an eagle flag fluttering in the wind was held in Hans' hand, and he walked out of the Lord's Hall first.

Lothar was riding on a mount, with a dragon's head showing teeth and claws embroidered in gold thread on the black cloak behind him, and underneath was a motto written in Latin - bathe in dragon's blood.

Two attendants followed him, carrying helmets, lances, kite shields and other equipment for him.

The hussars lined up neatly, with feathers on their backs, making people feel awe.

The Varangian Guards and the remaining veterans were mixed together. The flag officer in a bearskin cloak held high the golden eagle emblem. These two armies both belonged to Rome but spanned countless years. It was so wonderful. The ground merges into one.

The priests were waiting not far away.

A monk whose head was shaved bald, with only a ring of white curly hair remaining around him, wearing a knee-length white robe, strode forward and held Lothar's arm holding the reins.

This Mediterranean hairstyle, known as the St. Peter's haircut, is different from the St. Paul's haircut still used by Orthodox monks, who still have their heads shaved off.

The monk raised the cross in his hand and chanted loudly: "Saint Michael is with you, Count Lothar. Your army will surely bathe in the blood of the heretics and return in triumph."

"Priest Uther, thank you for your blessing."

Lothar nodded slightly.

In Hebron, the power of the church was very weak, and the highest-ranking cleric was only a seventh-grade priest, whose status was worlds apart from that of the Patriarch of Jerusalem.

Priest Uther said with a flattering smile: "Sir, after you go on the expedition, I will also pray for you day and night."

Lothar also smiled and said, "Thank you again. For this trip, I will repay your kindness with the blood of the heretics."

He knew that Priest Uther's true intention was either to build churches in the villages of converts on Lothar's newly acquired land, or to get a share of the credit for converting the pagans.

Unfortunately, Lothar didn't even intend to give it.

If this guy was really unworthy, he would simply ask Archbishop William for help, tell him to get out, and replace Uldin and his Saint Lazarus Redemption Order to take over the church in Hebron.

Only this kind of people can be used by Lothar with confidence.

The group of people galloped out of the city and met up with the conscripted peasant soldiers led by the knights outside the city.

A large group of people marched on the dirt road in an orderly manner.

The peasant soldiers who had been recruited from heaven and earth followed the team with some anxiety.

They all wore armor, but they were all old armor and broken, rusty scale armor, as well as a few dark chainmails, which were the stock in Hebron's arsenal.

The production capacity of the blacksmith workshop has been devoted to the production of plate armor, and the steel production capacity is not rich enough to make a simple breastplate for each of them.

Anyway, Lothar didn't expect them to play a big role in this battle.

Moreover, this is much better than the "Pilgrim Crusaders" hastily recruited in Jerusalem. At that time, they could not even equip themselves with an iron helmet.

Lothar's levied peasant soldiers, a total of four hundred people, are all equipped with spears, armor, helmets, and shields, and are equipped with the same equipment as the sergeant class.

It's quite luxurious.

The knights of the order, all riding tall horses covered with chain mail, walked beside them and corrected them when their formation was scattered.

These peasants and soldiers had only received military training for a week at least, and they could not even move in line.

The "qi" mentioned here is not the level of marching in step as in the military training period, but the simplest level of following one's own flag team, not falling behind, and not walking into a scattered formation like chasing ducks.

In the team.

A young peasant soldier who looked to be only sixteen years old and wearing a helmet that was too wide was walking, holding on to his helmet, and said to the knight who was leading them:

"Holy...oh no, Heavenly Father, Mr. Fabio, do you think we can really come back alive this time?"

Fabio, a knight who had served as a standard-bearer in the army, was not angry. He just asked with a smile: "Little Karami, are you scared?"

The little peasant soldier said with some embarrassment: "No, sir, I'm not timid, I'm just worried that if we die on the battlefield, we won't be able to repay the kindness to the Earl - you know, we haven't had time to pay homage to the Earl." Your Excellency pays a tax of one copper."

Not long ago, Leonard's tax collector in Hebron had collected the midsummer taxes.

The next tax payment day will be Michaelmas Day at the end of September.

Fabio laughed and said: "Listen, little Karami. The count assigned you land, gave you rations, lent you farm tools and livestock for plowing, and asked me to train you in combat skills, not just to knock you out. Dragging him to the battlefield to die."

Fabio is the best among the many knights of the Order because he understands the language of the Saracens, which is better than Lothar.

Although Lothar studied Arabic and Kurdish with Prajna for a long time, due to the accent problem, when talking to the local people, he still often speaks like a chicken.

Fabio said loudly to the peasant soldiers he trained: "Is it more expensive for the Count to recruit those Frank pilgrims who lack food and clothing, have fanatical beliefs and are not afraid of death than us?"

"Look at the armor you are wearing. It is even more valuable than all your belongings. Don't you still understand the Earl's expectations for you?"

The peasants and soldiers shouted:

"Yes, Mr. Fabio is right. Everyone knows how Mr. Fabio and the Count have treated us."

"Father in heaven, I must kill a few heretics in this battle to repay your kindness."

"We're going to let those enemies know that we're not just using picks and dung forks."

The peasants and soldiers may be a little short-sighted, but they are by no means a bunch of idiots.

Fabio couldn't help but laugh and said: "Young man, don't forget what I taught you. You don't need to be brave in this battle. Just follow my orders like you did in training."

The pace of the marching team became much more brisk during the conversation.

Some peasants and soldiers complained to Calami in a low voice: "You shouldn't speak to Mr. Fabio like that. The Count has liberated us and made us free people, and we can also fill our stomachs."

He said angrily: "Don't forget how you lived in the past, pulling a plow and working in the fields every day. If you were lazy, you would be whipped, and you would be chained like a dog at night."

"It is the Earl who has allowed us to live such a good life. Even if we have to sacrifice our lives for this, why should we not do it?"

The little peasant soldier lowered his head and hesitated: "Huh... I'm sorry, but it's just because I'm about to live a good life that I don't want to die like this."

His tone became heavier: "We now own our own land, and the rent we have to pay is pitifully less than before... Moreover, it is still fertile land by the river. We don't even need animals to plow deeply to grow crops." Endless oats.”

"The lord also allowed us to cut down trees in his forest to build houses...I was originally thinking of building a barn and raising a patterned cat to catch mice."

"If my mother hadn't starved to death, she would be very happy now."

The peasants and soldiers who accused him were somewhat silent.

Famine was a nightmare for serfs who could not save any surplus food.

The old Mr. Hussein never cared about their life or death.

When there was a shortage of food, he would rather send a grain team to sell the surplus grain to the city than lend it to the serfs who were short of food.

Except for those farmers who own a certain amount of land, because they can use their land to pay off their debts.

The shadow before my eyes enlarged.

Fabio's figure on the mount appeared in front of him: "Little Karami, does this kind of life make you satisfied? Don't you want to be like me, riding a big horse, wearing brand-new clothes, and being able to take photos? The bright armor that shows the figure?"

The little peasant soldier swallowed subconsciously.

Although they are all wearing armor, these peasant soldiers are still far behind compared to the knights like Fabio who wear plate armor.

It is simply the difference between a beggar and a king!

The little peasant soldier opened his mouth, somewhat in disbelief: "Can we do it too?"

He couldn't even imagine what he would look like wearing that armor and riding such a majestic horse.

The other peasants and soldiers were also fascinated.

Fabio's painting of this pie is so tempting.

"The Earl is a generous man, I think you all realize this.

Moreover, you have all converted to the right faith.

So after you have accomplished enough meritorious deeds, what reason does he have for not granting you the title of a mere knight? "

Fabio said.