IV. Seeking Solace
I cannot put into words the sorrow and weight I carried with me from the moment I placed the final stone on Randel’s cairn. When I left the comfort of my home, I vowed I would protect those in my care, no matter the cost. Seeing how at peace Randel was upon his death came close to breaking me and for the following day and a half, I was unafraid to shed tears. It is those moments where I felt strongest, and I felt a stronger connection with those who still travelled with me.
It was Hann who approached and made the simple suggestion of detouring to the south and making a visit to the Papal State. From there, Hann noted we could board a boat in Venice and make our way down the Adriatic Sea along the Ionian coast. Our goal was to reach Thessaloniki by boat and make our way eastward to Constantinople.
“The road we walk is one of pain and torture, but the Lord looks down upon His flock. An affirmation from His Holiness will help us see the light with greater clarity. Our passage over these mountains, once walked by Hannibal Barca and the Carthaginian army to bring the fight to Rome herself, is but a test. A test affronted to us by the Lord. We remember those who fall and those who rise. We are the sword and the shield, the spear and the horse, the mace and the coif, and we are the defenders of the Cross,’ Hann bellowed over the raging winds high in the Italian Alps.
As we manoeuvred our way through the Black Forest after our altercation with the bandits, we came across several small hamlets and villages. A variety of men, young and old, turned their heads to us as we navigated through their lands. The sight of myself astride Boomer, a horse larger than any of these serfs had ever seen, was enough to convince a few to offer their arm to my service. They spoke little in the way of common language, but Hann’s charismatic and dedicated sermons were enough to instil courage and purpose in these latest recruits.
There were some who spoke fractured versions of French, and I did my best to recall my Germanic and my French to commune with them. Each man spoke of the riders who rode through only weeks before carrying the summons of the Holy Roman Emperor. I knew the name of Frederick Barbarossa and how he, like myself, was one of the few who was a part of the previous Crusade. What the serfs of Germany told me brought fear and admiration to the forefront of my mind. The Holy Roman Emperor had managed to coalesce an army of around twenty thousand, with a quarter of his force consisting of the nobility. By contrast, my own king, Richard, mustered a force less than half this number. I was one of the very few knights Richard recruited from amongst the gentrie, and even I struggled to muster more than a couple dozen. All willing and with families to carry on their name, should they perish.
“Hold not the cold in your hearts, my friends, for our path remains aflame by the will of the Lord. Trust in His word and His judgement, and you will carry on and persevere. We are the chosen of the Lord. Eat hearty and revel in the night, brothers, for we march to immortality!”
A raucous cheer erupted from the fifty or so men gathered in the makeshift camp once Hann finished his speech. A few fires raged around the area, and whilst there was some intermingling, most of the men kept to their own camps. I sat near the largest fire with my tent to my back. Hann wandered from the flat stone he stood on to deliver his sermon, and I could see the sweat on his brow, despite the cold in the mountains.
Hann downed the remainder of his waterskin, and a few mouthfuls dribbled down the corners of his mouth. A dozen drops of liquid clung with all the desperation of one who fell over the side of a castle wall to the red hairs of Hann’s ragged, dirt-flecked beard. He shot me a weak smile and took in a calm and collected breath. The bandage on his left forearm concealed a gooey, foul-smelling wound. The red outline highlighted the intensity of Hann’s speeches – I only ever saw this blood after his nightly sermon.
“You should be careful with your words, Father,” I said.
“Words are a tool, milord. Much like the sword you carry on your person, and the mace I wield for the glory of the Lord. In addition, the word of the Lord is one even the newest members of our cohort can understand and rally behind. You are the strength of our Crusade, milord. I humbly and willingly, under the direction of the Lord, serve as both the face and the voice.
“You may call what I say machinations or conspiratorial in nature, but you cannot deny the evidence. These men believe in the cause, and every day they grow more invested and intrigued. This is a war we will win through strength of arms, this much the Lord dictates, but to gather the strength of arms, we must utilise the teachings of the Lord.”
Hann paused and I heard his boots crunch in the dirt. I turned my gaze to him. The firelight flickered off his grizzled face and I could see the wrinkles already gouged into his forehead. In a matter of months, Hann seemed to put on almost a decade of age. It made me wonder how much older and thinner I looked. Not having access to the castle kitchens and staff on-call was something I somewhat missed. The stable meals were what I craved most on the road.
“You should take pride in what you taught young Randel before his cruel death. In the absence of words, charisma comes from might. Your size is a gift from the Lord, and you use it well. My parish mentor, may his soul rest in eternal peace, taught me how to read and write. He taught me how to wield the mace I carry and how to spread gospel. But the most powerful tool he rendered unto me? The stories of old. I know the Homeric tales and the tales of the Aeneid. Tales of men, much like us, willing to cross half the world to face a foe we have never met over land we will never hold.
“We go not to the Holy Land for glory and riches, but for fame. A chance for history to never forget us. Men are easy to understand, milord. It is women whom we fail to break into the minds of. Do you know what it is a woman wishes for most, milord?”
I smirked and lowered my gaze. My eyes softened to Hann’s question, and he gave out a soft chuckle. The heat from the flames seeped through my undershirt. Boomer snorted and neighed in the distance. I could tell it was my steed, for the deepness and ferocity of his tone stood out above the other horses in the pack.
“I’ve tried to understand women three times over. I’m an ascended paissaunt, and I look the part. I have little in the way of land. I have no ambitions to further my place in society. There’s but one thing I can think of which all those women wanted from me,” I said with a sly smile.
Hann shook his head and tossed a small stone into the dirt between his legs. The ruckus further in the camp seemed to be dying down and the sound of the wind higher up in the mountains resonated in my ears. Hann and I sighed at the same time, sharing a knowing look. It would soon be time to retreat into our tents for the night.
“Addy is taking first watch tonight, milord. Elric is taking the second, along with one of our German recruits, Adalhard. You should get some rest, milord. I doubt anything will happen here. We’re too high up,’ Hann said.
Hann proved to be accurate in his assessment of the situation. The night passed with nary a sound, as did the following nights. After a long week of mountaineering and a new month beginning, we managed to cross the highest point of the Alps and began our descent. Our first step was liable to be Milano, though I suspected further barbarian and bandit attacks on our road. I would spend time passing on small facets of my knowledge to the group of men at night. Hann would follow up with one of his speeches as we prepared to eat. I grew closer with every man where I could, but I built a special bond with Hann. No matter what occurred, he was able to see the light in the situation.
As the weather warmed up on our descent from the Alps, we were able to take in the sights of the Po Valley, much as Hannibal Barca did fourteen hundred years before. From what Hann relayed to me, we took a different route to Hannibal, for we crossed the Alps from the North, whereas Hannibal went through what is now Burgundian territory and came from the West. The meandering of the Po river cut the horizon in the right weather conditions and this instilled all the hope we needed to continue forward. Our goal was to reach Rome by the months’ end.
I lost four of my company after we finished our descent from the Alps. Despite the summer, the coldness of the mountains was more than enough for them to catch serious illnesses. Hann and Lüdwig, an older farmer from the banks of the Rhône, did their best to treat those who fell ill. As Hann would acknowledge at each funeral, the Lord gave each of them a plan and they accomplished it through their actions in helping us further our journey to the Holy Land. I shed few tears, though I did place a cross on each cairn post-burial. I added a section of their clothes to my rucksack, vowing, under the grace of God, to bring a piece of their person to the Holy Land, so they can achieve the ultimate goal promised to them by the Lord.
As we crossed the Po Valley, we encountered Milanese farmers and Venetian merchants on their way to Turin and Burgundy. They shared what little news they could give which we could understand, though our recognition as participants in the Crusade won us favour wherever we went. Hann gave out a few blessings, though the extent of his Latin ensured these events were short and sharp. These events served to grow morale, and the men I brought from England grew closer and friendlier with those from Germany.
“Milord, might I have a word?” Elric said the day the city of Milan appeared on the horizon.
“You have my ears, Elric. Speak your mind and speak true.”
“I know sometimes I doubt you, milord, and I apologise. In the short time I spent with him, I grew to be friends with Randel. He was brash and arrogant, but he gave me a sense of confidence. A sense of bravado. I wish I could have spoken about this sooner, but I was grieving,” Elric said.
“To feel fear is the wish of Him. To feel pain and sorrow is a gift from Him. I do not follow this path without much trepidation and fear, but I follow His will. You will see no judgement here, Elric. How might I assist you?” said I.
“I want to carry on his memory, though I do not have the skill to do so. At least, not with my own blade skills.”
I nodded and, with a deep, resonant, booming voice, I shouted. “Noll!”
The weathered man both Hann and I trusted without condition spurred his lean horse forward and overtook the trailing column meandering behind Boomer. The hooves of Noll’s horse echoed in the gentle and almost unmoving air. I could almost hear Hann’s soft chuckle as Noll rode past. I gave a few seconds for Noll to bring his horse into step with Boomer.
“Orders, milord?” Noll said.
“I place a lot of trust in you, and I have a request of you. I wish for you to spend some time with Elric, not too much, and help improve his fighting skills. For the memory of the fallen. Are you able to acquiesce?”
“I reckon so, milord. We all serve a purpose on this journey. We should all perform at our best. Ain’t no problem from me, milord. Training starts when we make camp, boy. Bring your sword and an open mind,” Noll said.
“Yes, yes, sir. I will. And thank you. For having faith,” Elric said.
“Faith is the capstone of our journey, young Elric. If we fail to hold onto that which keeps us moving forward, then we will succumb to wounds long before we reach our destination. If you remember God protects you, the only harm is the one which God Himself decides to come upon you. Randel, may his soul rest in peace, found this out the hard way. More of us will invariably succumb in our grand journey, such is the will of God,” I said without so much as a second thought.
Milan came and went without much in the way of interest. Our party managed to restock our supplies with some difficulty. We managed to find a place to sleep with a solid roof over our heads for at least one night. I took little solace in the luxuries afforded to us in Milan. Hann and I chose to spend what time we had in prayer. By the time we departed the city to march further south toward Rome, a band of Italian mercenaries signed up with our company for the promise of rich reward. A half-dozen Genoese crossbowmen, a dozen Milanese swordsmen, and a handful of flagellants pledged themselves to our growing numbers.
The fresh faces were welcome company as we set off after a solid rest in Milan. The sun scraped the horizon as we made our way south toward the Po river. Farmland occupied most of the visible space. Cattle mooed in the distance and those close enough turned their massive heads to my company with a smarmy laziness. The scent of manure flooded the air in places.
For the most part, Hann rode his donkey beside Boomer in silence. Even without a word, I knew he was uttering a prayer of some kind. His connection to God was something I did not dispute; since he began his regular nighttime sermons, our luck seemed to take a turn for the better. Whenever it looked to rain, the clouds never let their heavy burdens loose. The sun lessened in strength when it seemed brightest and spared the pale skin of Ardgal and Cathal, the Celtic members of the party.
I watched Noll and Elric on the second night after we left Milan and left the Po behind us. We were well on our way to Florence, though Rome was still several days away. A small crowd joined me, with a few who had not yet had a chance to speak to me sitting close by. One of these was Addy, which was a surprise to me. He sat on my right side, the fair hair sprouting from his chin scraggy and sparse.
“Shite seems like it bout to get real, iffin you parden me language, sir,” Addy said.
“If you can believe, things are about as real as they can get. The Holy Land waits at journey’s end, though when that may be, I cannot tell. I can’t recall you ever telling me why you came on this Crusade. If I hazard to guess, you are running from persecution. Your voice and mannerisms give you away as someone who struggled to stay out of trouble. Am I close?” I asked.
Our eyes never met, but I could tell as we watched Noll force Elric to the ground for the fourth time, how Addy nodded in approval. Cheers erupted from a combined Italian and German cohort of spectators when Elric thudded to the ground. Hann, on my left, muttered an inaudible string of words under his breath. Addy took a few moments to compose himself before he spoke again.
“I got promised freedom from me past, sir. A chance to redeem meself from the life I lived. It weren’t me fault, not always anyways. I do hope someone out there can afford me forgiveness for whatever sins me soul carries,” Addy said.
Hann chimed in, evidently overhearing our conversation. “All sins find themselves abolished when we surrender our mind and soul to the will of the Lord. He judges us not for the overall outcome of our deeds in this life, but the intent with which we carry ourselves. ‘The man who steals a loaf of bread to feed a starving child will receive the same judgement as he who spends his life hidden behind rules and walls away from sin.’ You must never feel bad for what you do in this life, for the fastest way to Hell is ignorance of His teachings.”
“You made the first step when you came upon this arduous journey of your own will,” I continued from where Hann left off. “Forgiveness comes in stages, and the first stage is the admittance we must search for forgiveness. I learned this many years ago, but until now, found little chance to follow up. What’s your trade, Addy?”
The question, though simple, was enough to catch Addy off guard. Even Hann, who held a vested interest in the members of our travelling party, gave a curious look to me. My expression changed an imperceptible amount, and I ran a hand through the ever-growing mass of whiskers on my chin. Boomer’s hooves crunched the grass to fill the void whilst Addy took a deep breath and stroked his chin.
“I suppose I’m a ‘prentice mason, sir. Stones seemed to always suit me way of thinking and me father broke his back doing the same,’ Addy said.
“The Lord rewards honest work almost as much as he rewards those who selflessly sacrifice themselves for His glory. Addy the Mason. I find a great deal of respect for those who do all they can to assist the common folk. The Lord finds favour in the simple things in this world. I bring great pleasure to Him, for I find no pleasure in material goods, and if I do, I punish myself. Of course, I do not bring myself to the same extent our flagellant brethren do to appease Him, though our methods achieve similar ends. Flagellants are selfish in their nature whereas I believe in spreading gospel to the common man so the word of the Lord enters into the subconscious of man. It is not through action which we will come to be remembered, but through the legacy which we leave,” Hann said.
A bird sounded out on the horizon, though I was unsure what type it was. Neither I nor Addy offered further vocal response to Hann. I did take note how Addy nodded his head slowly, taking the chance to rein in his horse. He fell back in line to where Elric rode. The two struck up perhaps the strongest friendship between anyone who set out from England. Hann and myself, though we were confidantes and trusting of the other, viewed our journey as little more than duty to the Lord.
The remainder of the journey to Rome found itself rather uninteresting and without much in the way of drama. Each night passed much the same – we made camp and several fires blazed across a small field. Various foods were passed around as Hann wore out his voice with his regular sermons. Each time, he elicited more and more cheers from his audience. Despite the wear on his voice and the raspy and gravelly way he began to speak, Hann’s words only gained potency.
I spent my days getting to know the newer people in the group, doing my best to learn their language to better communicate. Success was limited in supply, though this was hardly surprising, given my rather advanced age. I could tell the further we travelled as a group, the tension seemed to grow at a snail’s pace.
Then, we saw Rome in the distance. Some sighs and shallow breaths filled the air. It took us six days since our descent from the Alps to come close enough to see what, at one stage, was the greatest city known to man. A smile crossed my face. Hann and Noll rode up on my left and right respectively. Hann, with his worn-down and sore voice, spoke first.
“I think we can afford a few days’ rest once we cross beyond the walls. Attila once threatened the very land we walk on, though his forces ended on the far side of the Po. Some stories claim the Pope himself spoke with the warlord. The Lord gives credence to this mythology, and I fail to see reason to doubt as such. Leo I was a mighty man and responsible for great reform. If my recognition of the date is accurate, we might take the chance to commemorate and partake in the celebration of Leo the Great. Whence we reach the Basilica, the Lord’s word through me becomes law,” Hann said.
“You can say whatever you want, so long as I can find a place to grab a stiff drink, Father. I promise to behave, milord,” Noll responded.
Even Hann could not help but laugh at Noll’s blasé commentary. Deep down, I knew what to expect, and I had a feeling Hann would do his best to afford me an audience with the current Pope. This would be despite my less-than-enthusiastic approach to religion, even though I did my best to appease the Lord with my actions. My smirk hid my trepidations regarding setting foot inside Rome. A part of me was a little giddy, knowing I could see a wonder of the ancient world or two. Most of all, I found myself frightened.
We entered Rome from the north, and almost immediately, a cascade of cheers erupted from a small crowd. The Milanese members of our group were shouting out what I assumed to be our cause and our goal to the public in what I believed to be Latin. Ladies of various sizes pushed through the crowd and handed flowers to several members in our group. I graciously accepted a couple, giving a smile and a tilt of my head. A fair-haired lady of no more than twenty swooned when I give her this look.
I took in the sight of the clean cobblestone road and the marble statues lining the main parade leading through Rome. In the distance, I spied the famed Colosseum. I wondered what it would feel like to live in the glory days of such wondrous theatre. What it would feel like to have thousands of adoring spectators watching me paint a deathly mosaic with sword and shield. I wondered what it would feel like to have the Emperor of the known world watch on and take in the spectacle held in his honour.
I ducked my head to hide the tear forming in the corner of my eye. Too often had the nobles of England held tournaments to celebrate their glory and their supposed superiority. Not one of these had I attended, for not one had I received a summons to participate. Amice and my previous wives did their best to remind me perhaps the other nobles were scared of me. It is hard to find oneself welcome at such events when my size is such it defines much of what people think about me.
“I sent a boy ahead a few nights ago detailing our sojourn into Rome. His Excellency has invited us to Saint Peter’s Basilica so the words of God can be spoken unto us through His most devout servant. This is a great honour, and for a simple member of the clergy to find himself before the favoured of the Lord, I cannot express how humbled I am. As leader of this force, and the highest nobility amongst us, His Excellency regards you in high esteem, for to be a Crusader is more than marching to the Holy Land by the Lord’s will,” Hann said.
“What makes a man a Crusader, Father?” I asked.
“Now there is a difficult question. Scriptures decree a Crusader to be a warrior for God, subject to His will and machinations. A pawn with which He can interact with the world He created. Do not confuse a priest for a Crusader. I serve as little more than His mouthpiece in my little corner of the world.
“I do find your outlook on life most puzzling, milord. Whenever I think I get to understand why you act in certain ways or perform tasks with specific intents, your words betray everything I believe I know. I admire the restraint you have when you have women from half the world away fawning over you for the mere act of performing God’s will,” Hann said.
“I made a vow to Him on my wedding day. All three of them. I take my oaths very seriously, and each of those days my vows included a promise to the Lord to never act in an unfaithful manner to the woman beside me. If all men treated their women with the respect and admiration deserving of their fairness, perhaps God would find reason to redeem the world when He decides to end it. I left my sons and daughters in capable hands and for this, I am grateful. Tell me more of your family, Father,” I said.
I have never seen the colour drain from the body of another with the speed it drained from Hann when I posited my question. The slender and calloused fingers of his left hand gripped the reins of his horse so hard his knuckles turned bone white. His right hand shot to the cross dangling from a thick cord around his neck. He traced the face of the cross with his thumb, and I saw his lips move as he uttered a silent prayer.
I have no idea what prompted me to ask such a question, though upon seeing Hann’s reaction, it gave me a great deal of regret. All my life, I was content to remain as silent as possible, speaking only when it felt necessary. Since Randel’s death, my outlook seemed to take a turn for the better as I did my best to get to know those around me.
“Take the evil thoughts and cynicism from your mind, milord. You have not wronged me, though it does hurt to think of what little family I do know. I suppose everyone who entered my parish seeking solace and sanctuary are children or brothers or sisters or fathers or mothers to me. Even now, as we walk through the grand city of Rome, I never feel far from family. The Lord fills my life with kind souls. When I took my oath, which seems a lifetime ago, and I suppose it is, I gave up the chance of fathering children. The Lord works in mysterious ways and asks His faithful to give something in return for being able to spread His word. I gave a vow of celibacy.
“The scars on my body, they represent each time I offered my assistance. They represent the sins of others. Much as the scars on your body represent each of your sins. A blood price is one which the Lord accepts as a sign of humility. The scars around your eyes, they carry the weight of your foes. Great men, albeit misguided. Constant reminders of where we come from, milord.
“I stole bread and killed men in my youth so my family could have some semblance of normalcy. My mother, bless her heart and rest her soul, struggled to find the will to go on after my birth. She claims the Lord helped her to hold on. At least until I turned eight. My father died when I was too young to remember. My mother and my older three siblings who remember him refuse to say. I tried asking the Lord, but such information is not His to give.
“I took the oath of the clergy at fourteen. Not even a man, and I gave everything I had. Forty years in His service. Would I trade them for anything? Not a chance in this world. You see, we all make vows, milord. I did sire a son before giving my life to the Lord’s service,” Hann said, and he wiped a tear from his eye.
“Do you know where he is now?” I asked.
A massive bell tolling prevented Hann from giving me an answer. The sound drew our focus ahead of us and we saw a congregation of revellers and guards mixed in with flagellants and pilgrims. Saint Peter’s Basilica loomed ahead, the seat of power for the Papal State. My breath caught in my throat and, as I looked over my shoulder, I realised Hann and I were travelling alone. I did see Noll at the head of the remainder of our cohort. No doubt he watched with stony intent.
A pair of guards covered in white and gold vestments with a cross emblazoned across their chest stepped forward. Their hand rested on their blades and the one on the left spoke in a language I did not understand. Hann cleared his throat and responded in the same language. The two guards turned aside and beckoned us further into the Pope’s domain.
The Papal Guard were swift and efficient in disarming Hann and I. Before we could set foot inside the Basilica, we had to leave our arms and armour in the capable hands of a steward. A soft choir sung from somewhere in the Papal State, an ominous background to our entrance into the largest cathedral I had ever seen. Light streamed in from every possible entrance and twisted around the room to come to a single point. An elderly man, clothed in a white and gold robe with a tall hat stood basking in the gift from God. We were standing before the Pope.
“Have you ever taken the chance to stop and listen to the birds as they fly overhead, carrying with them the wisdom of ages and spreading His glory across His creation? Do you yearn to feel His gift of sand between the toes gifted to us by Him? In all my long years of servitude, something I give without condition, I encountered two issues when I ascended to my station. The first was to ensure His word returned to this city. The second occurred when His Holy Land found itself co-opted and terrorised and desecrated by the defilers to the East.
“It was I who brought emissaries to the Kings and rulers of the West. Forget not the path on which you walk, for I am the one who consecrates the very Earth upon which man chooses to walk. Now here you stand, a man devoted to the cause of the Lord, and one of his many chosen soldiers deemed to carry on His will. Tell me but one thing. Are you scared of what is to come?” Pope Clement III said.
Beside me, Hann was on his knees, leant over grovelling. He did his best to avert his eyes from the Pope, though I could see how much his body was shaking. In some perverse way, I was glad how silent Hann was. I knew how well he meant, but sometimes his actions and words were quite pervasive and intrusive to our goal. However, with Hann in the state he was, I knew I had to offer a response.
“It is the nature of man to carry fear in his self. Would I be lying to myself if I said I did not dread what lays on the horizon, no matter how distant? Only God knows what truths I carry deep in me,” I said.
Despite being around the same age as myself, the Pope moved with great difficulty and unease as he approached me. His soft footsteps echoed off the high walls of Saint Peter’s Basilica and, from the corner of my eye, I saw several Papal guards shift around, hands held permanently on their weapons. The Pope stopped less than two yards away, and I was able to see the veins protruding from the taut layer of skin on his hands.
“I love my city. I grew up in these streets and under this sun. My youth came and went under the watchful eye of God. Now, I spend my days in His service, not as a worshipper, but a conduit. A beacon for Him to see His world through. Do not deign to pretend when speaking to me you speak only to me. He can see through your words, so never hide behind your faith in Him, good Sir. You undertake your quest in my name to satisfy His word,” the Pope said.
“I choose to be a man of few words. I follow a righteous path in my own way, and I never blaspheme or go against His decrees. My goal lies in the Holy Land. If He speaks through you, then you know my reason for leaving home. For leaving a family behind. A young wife, whose beauty is beyond measure such that I dream of her every night she is not in my arms.
“I am not getting younger, and my days under God’s sun on His hallowed ground are short in number. I go to the Holy Land to atone for the sins of the past. I go to finish what I started many long years ago, for this was my promise to God. It remains my promise, so waste no more time and impart the words God wishes to say unto me,” I said.
The light around myself and Hann seemed to dim as the Pope glowed with an unnatural radiance. A ray of sun streamed in from high windows in places I could not see. Hann whimpered beside me and broke out into a mumbled and muted prayer. The Pope stared into my eyes with a fiery passion hidden deep within. I reciprocated his gaze and did not dare to change my stance or the tension in my facial muscles. Beside me, Hann grew more tense as the Pope inched closer. A shadow fell over Hann as the light which seemed to follow the Pope found itself blocked by his body. I was almost nose to nose with the Pope at this point. The whiskers on my chin bristled as I unleashed a series of slow breaths.
“You know what comes in the Holy Land, Sir. For certain I cannot say for sure when or where these tribulations shall occur, though they will happen without doubt. We must look to our histories to spot the truth in our actions and what we wish to accomplish in this world, do we not? We have one chance to make an impact in this world, and the Lord chose me to speak His words to those of your ilk, Sir. You are His sword, so carry yourself with all the pride He demands of you. Go with His blessing,” the Pope said.
“My journey is not to fulfill His will, Most Holy Father. Father Hann carries His will in his heart and soul more than any man I have ever encountered. He is the voice and the face of my Crusade, and thus he is the one who must carry the words of the Lord. Do not deign to ignore him,” I said.
“I bless all children of the cloth with equal strength. You would do well to remember it is not I your clergyman serves, but the Lord. I feel no intimidation from you, Sir, despite your size. Lesser men would flee when they see you approach, but the might of the Lord courses in my veins and I will not yield. Take His blessing, and take your leave,” the Pope said, a slight hiss in his soft voice.
Neither Hann nor I exchanged any further words with the Pope, who turned his back to us and waddled his way back to his original position. Hann stood up beside me, shaking as he took my arm, and we made our way out of the Basilica. We retrieved our weapons and various oddments before Hann turned to me.
“I apologise, milord. I did not know what to say. I froze up. Much as I froze up when you asked if I knew where my son was. I do know where he is, milord,” Hann stopped and wiped a tear from his eye.
“You don’t have to,” I said.
“We buried him in Germany.”
Fenrir's Lair 
2 thoughts on “Crusader – Chapter Four”