People in the Middle Ages, draw cards to get promoted

Chapter 412 Old Dogs

The duel was forced to end.

His majesty's messenger, with impassioned gestures, came before Saladin at the moment when the two armies faced each other, and accused him of having cast a dishonorable shadow over the duel of honor.

But Saladin's reply was also impeccable.

He said that this is the power given to a warrior by the holy fire. He is by no means a monster, but when using this power, he will temporarily maintain a half-dragon posture.

It seems that it is not unreasonable.

"But people only believe what they see."

There was a mocking smile on the corner of Lothar's mouth: "Coors, you have worked hard tonight."

The black figure behind him bowed to him and disappeared without a trace.

His plan has already begun.

Send Coors away.

Lothar looked at Hans again. His injury was not serious, but Lothar still apologized a little: "Hans, I wronged you today."

Hans is actually a well-known young knight in Jerusalem. As the head of the Royal Knights, he has defeated many challengers.

"It's nothing, the skills are not as good as people."

Hans quickly shook his head and said, "If I had the strength to defeat this guy under normal conditions, this wouldn't be the result."

Lothar routinely patted Hans on the shoulder.

Hans hesitated for a moment, and said, "It's just that I saw Sir Stephen again today, and he hasn't been punished yet."

Sir Stephen was the tyrannical lord who did many evils and caused civil uprisings.

Lothar nodded and said: "Duke Raymond wants him to commit crimes and meritorious service... In fact, there is a high probability that he is expected to die in this war."

This is also understandable.

What is the biggest advantage of feudal lords?
Able to fight, able to lead troops in time to respond to the lord's request.

In addition, apart from loyalty, there are no hard requirements for personal character.

"If you can't see, just throw the glove in his face."

Hans was silent for a while, then shook his head and said, "My lord, I won't cause you any trouble. If he didn't die on the battlefield, I would use a conspiracy to assassinate him afterwards and send him to Hell to make atonement."

Lothar sighed lightly.

Hans is an upright, upright knight.

He is different.

Although in appearance, he is better than Hans, but he has gradually entered the role represented by the position under the buttocks.

Looking at Hans' back, Lothar murmured in a low voice:
"Your Majesty the King is right. Not only changes in the body will affect the mind, but the position of the butt will also affect the brain."

Lothar sighed lightly. A lord like Sir Stephen, who has committed all kinds of crimes, looks at Europe and the world of Saracen. It can't be said that it is everywhere, and it is by no means a minority. Not every ruler will weigh the pros and cons.

There are too many aristocrats who boast of noble blood and regard ordinary people as pigs and dogs.

Jeanna comforted in a low voice: "Even so, you are still the most enlightened and benevolent ruler of this era."

"Maybe not soon."

If the plan goes well, after this battle, he will march into Egypt, and by then, many people will die.

Lothar tapped the table lightly with his fingers: "Is there any news from the territory? Saladin has stayed here so securely, it makes no sense that he has no backup."

Jeanna shook her head and said, "Not yet, probably still waiting for the right time."

Port Ella in the morning.

There was a mist over the sea.

The town guards on guard are fully armed, and on the towering Siegfried Tower,
Andreas took a bite of the hard wheat cake, and looked at Muller, whose eyes were bloodshot—last night, the old Saracens woke up after only two hours of light sleep.

There is no way, he is the guard officer who came over by air after all, and the defense of the port cannot be separated from the cooperation of Muller.

"Master Mueller, are you alright?"

"no problem!"

Mu Le didn't wear armor, rubbed his wrinkled face, and said with a relaxed expression: "Don't worry, young man, after all, I'm also a command knight conferred by the Lord himself. Haven't you heard that wine tastes better with age?"

The servant offered two glasses of wine in good time.

"For victory."

Muller clinked glasses with Hans, and drank the wine comfortably: "The Heavenly Father still has a broad mind. At least, every Christian can enjoy this wonderful liquid wantonly."

Andreas thought, in fact, the Catholic Church also advocates abstinence. Alcoholism belongs to "gluttony" among the seven deadly sins. monastery".

Therefore, drinking has become a tacit secret among the monks.

At this time.

The horn sounded from the Siegfried Tower. According to the urgency of the horn sound, Muller stood up: "Sixteen large ships are coming. If you count the oarsmen, there are at least 3000 enemies!"

Andreas was also a little nervous. 3000 people is a relatively underestimated number. If it is a large galley that can carry 400 people, this number will have to be doubled.

At the moment, there are no elite soldiers in Port Aila, and all the elite soldiers have been transferred away by Lothar. What is left is only [-] town guards, and [-] emergency reinforcements from the vicinity, as well as the guards. Citizens who are obliged to the city.

A sharp bell was rung in the town hall.

Every townsman has taken up arms and is ready to fight.

Old Hassan was also drafted to defend the city.

The location of him and his tribe happened to be between the bishopric of Alandle and the port of Ella, and it was also the furthest-distance soldiers that could be supported nearby in a hurry.

Although he is old, his past experience has given him full combat experience.

He is leaning on a wooden spear, and on the shield in his hand, there are three short javelins for close-range projection. He wears a rusty iron helmet on his head, and a crop stalk is inserted on it-this is In order to let his tribe people see where he is for the first time.

A dark-skinned middle-aged Kurd who had experienced vicissitudes of life said with guilt on his face: "Sheikh (patriarch), it's all my son's fault for wearing your armor away."

A set of armor can increase the survival rate of soldiers on the battlefield several times. This is something every Kurdish fighter knows.

Old Hassan said with a free and easy face: "If letting us old bones die can make young people live, what reason can stop us from doing so? Prepare to fight, Moxi, in order to protect our hard-won new life .”

Old Hassan didn't know whether it was right or wrong to move the tribe to the Marquis of Lothar's territory. At first, he felt that he was too reckless, then he felt that he had the foresight, and now he began to worry that after the battle, the tribe would die It won't just disappear.

"Where is the enemy?"

Someone looked up with their feet up.

"Idiot, you are getting old, are your old eyes also dim?"

Old Hassan cursed, pointing to the end where the blue sea meets the blue sky in the distance, at the top of the rising mist, one can vaguely see the white sails: "Put the fence deeper, these guys come from the sea. Come here, there is a high probability that there will be no cavalry, and there will be no soldiers, we just need to hold on, and when the reinforcements arrive, we can receive the reward and go home to embrace our daughter-in-law."

A group of old guys laughed.

"Don't worry, Sheikh, let these youngsters know that old dogs also have a few teeth."

Old Hassan looked at these old guys who fought side by side in the past. Some of them lost half an arm, and some lost an ear. The long desert nomads caused their physical condition to decline sharply in their prime.

But compared to those town guards who are heavily armed and armored, old Hassan still trusts his old buddies more.

"Shayue Department, follow me to fight!"

Old Hassan's hoarse voice sounded from the defense line surrounded by wooden fences.

A group of old dogs howled: "Roar!"

"Roar!"

"Roar!"

It attracted the sideways glances of the town guards who were preparing for battle next to them.

(End of this chapter)