chsdbacks #142 - I'll think about it again.
#142 - I'll think about it again.
Under the guard of the Holy Musketeers, Horn mounted his warhorse and once again set foot on the land of Jeanne d'Arc Fortress.
Dark clouds still hung over Jeanne d'Arc Fortress, but the fierce arguments and fights of yesterday seemed to have disappeared.
Ladies wearing veiled bonnets walked on the streets, notaries in puffed-sleeved jackets strolled along the roadside with paper rolls in their hands, and craftsmen with leather-wrapped tools under their arms headed towards their workshops.
On the opposite bank of the canal, laborers gathered up their shattered homes, covered the holes in their doors with rags, put on their brimless felt hats again, rolled up their sleeves, and picked up wooden buckets filled with waste water.
If it weren't for the fact that there were more beggars on the streets than before, bloodstains that hadn't been washed away, and piles of unremoved fences, Horn would even think that nothing had happened.
Led by a sergeant in a smock, Horn and his party walked across the creaking drawbridge.
As he passed through the city gate, Horn looked up and could still see the spiked iron gate at the bottom.
Above the gate, several holes were specially opened so that when enemies entered the gate, the defending soldiers could pour hot water or stab the enemy from the holes.
When faced with foreign enemies, the drawbridge was the first line of defense, the iron-clad fir wood gate was the second line of defense, and the iron gate was the third line of defense.
Further inside, there were crossbow shooting holes on the walls on both sides, which was the fourth line of defense, and at worst, the main castle building had a platform, which was the fifth line of defense.
It really felt like "My castle is impregnable."
After handing the horses over to the servants to take to the stables, Horn finally arrived inside the castle that he couldn't get into no matter what.
But as his leather boots stepped on the fine wool carpet, a cold wind made Horn shiver.
Horn thought it was already quite cold outside, but he didn't expect that the Duke's castle would be even colder.
Guided by a servant, Horn went up to the second floor and arrived at a waiting room. In the waiting room, there was a hardwood round table by the arched window, with a soft-faced armchair with brocade cushions on each side.
"Please wait here, the Duke is changing and will be here soon."
Horn sat down on the soft-faced chair on his own and looked out the window, where he could see the undulating fields and layers of houses in the distance.
Ant-like crowds were trudging forward in the gradually cooling autumn wind.
Without sitting idly in the waiting room for too long, Duke D'Arnais, whom Horn had long heard of, finally pushed the door open and walked in.
Duke D'Arnais looked close to forty years old, with a sense of premature aging.
Just like Cici said, he was indeed bald, with only scattered hairs on his temples and the back of his head.
But when Horn saw him, he still felt a bit of an eyesore.
He was wearing a yellow and black double-breasted short jacket, a codpiece hanging under his crotch, a two-finger-wide necklace inlaid with gold, silver, and gems around his neck, and five gold rings on the five fingers of his left hand.
Originally, the carvings on the rings should have been combined to form the Kush Duke's family name [Kiabs], the ancient name of the Kush River.
But the ring on his ring finger was replaced with an engagement ring, and the meaning of the ring became Kusabi.
The two walked to the round table in a friendly manner, without mentioning Bourvilf's previous actions.
"I was indeed sick from falling into the water some time ago, and I neglected you, hahaha."
"May Messilah bless you, your health has recovered and you can finally see people."
"Red wine, perhaps?" Letting Horn, as the guest, sit down first, Duke D'Arnais took two hourglass-shaped gold cups from the servant and poured a glass for himself and Horn respectively.
Looking at the gold cup in his hand, Horn didn't drink it. He decided to get straight to the point and not play those riddles.
Looking at the Duke sitting down, he raised his head and asked, "Have you ever drunk Blue Blood Wine?"
"I have, what's wrong?"
"Then do you know what it's made of?"
"This is the Church's secret, it would be great if I knew." Picking up the hourglass-shaped gold cup, D'Arnais poured the purple-red wine into his mouth.
"It's made of human flesh and blood."
"Pfft—"
The wine in D'Arnais's mouth instantly sprayed out.
"Cough cough cough, you, what, what kind of... cough cough cough..." He coughed violently and picked up the silk handkerchief on the table to wipe his mouth, "What are you saying? Weren't we talking about Bourvilf's matter?"
Without speaking, Horn took out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to D'Arnais.
It contained excerpts of how the priests prepared Blue Blood Wine, and revealed that the Green-Clad Piper was the Church's doing.
D'Arnais didn't bother to wipe the wine stains on his sleeves and collar, and hurriedly picked up the paper and examined it carefully.
His gaze swept back and forth across the paper, and D'Arnais's expression became increasingly ugly. In the end, his hands even trembled.
D'Arnais fell back into his chair and threw away the paper as if avoiding a plague god, "Do you have evidence? Where did you get the news? This, but, that is..."
"Of course I have evidence." Horn stared at D'Arnais, "But I can't give it to you for the time being, Duke D'Arnais, I'm here to talk about conditions."
"Conditions? What conditions?" D'Arnais recovered from the shock, he was clearly a little dazed.
"I know you want to use my name to start a rebellion, but I won't stay in Jeanne d'Arc Fortress." Horn said slowly, "What you lack is just a legitimate reason to incite the farmers to stand up against the Church, am I right?"
"Ah, yes, yes, yes, I have indeed been considering this recently." D'Arnais nodded quickly, but he asked with embarrassment, "Isn't this too much? Won't it piss off the Church?"
"Not everyone in the Church is of one mind, at most it will just piss off the current Pope. That Cardinal Grandiva might even thank you." Horn shook the wine in his glass, but didn't drink a sip.
"What will it take for you to give me this evidence?" D'Arnais swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
Horn frowned. Based on his previous image and methods, he thought the Duke was tough on the inside, but why does he look like a coward so far?.
Could it be that I misunderstood? But Horn continued, "First, I won't stay in Thousand River Valley. To prevent you from being too enthusiastic and keeping me here, the evidence will be given to you before I leave. Before that, I can only give you some copies of the evidence.
Second, my old camp can help you train 5,000 of the 10,000 young men into soldiers, and fight for you in my name. Some Holy Musketeers will also participate in the battle.
But I'll say it in advance, my old camp soldiers are only helping you fight, and are not under your command. Only the 10,000 new camp soldiers are under your command.
Third, during my absence, you must guarantee the food and clothing supply of my old camp. About one to two years later, I will come to pick them up."
"As long as this is true, I can of course agree to your conditions." D'Arnais agreed to Horn's conditions in one breath, stood up, and suddenly sat down again, "Do you think this evidence can really incite the farmers?"
"The Layan people have a good reputation, the Franks are always exclusive, the Norren people love their hometown, and the biggest characteristic of the Thousand River Valley people is that they value kinship.
Basically every Thousand River Valley person has more or less had relatives and friends taken away by the Green-Clad Piper.
But in mythology, it was the Thousand River Valley people who created their own sins, and they can't blame others, they can only complain about themselves.
If you tell them that this has nothing to do with the Thousand River Valley people at all, it's the Church's fault.
These hundreds of years of resentment, the tyranny of the Frankish Layan lords, the innocent Dean Juancho being harmed... With all of this accumulated, can they still believe in the Church?
At least until the local church has a major reshuffle, they will definitely not believe in the Thousand River Valley Church again."
"Oh..." With a bitter face, D'Arnais subconsciously picked up the wine gold cup, put it to his mouth, and put it back without drinking, "This matter, I have to think about it..."
"What are you afraid of?" Horn stood up and waved his hand to dispel the annoying incense smell, "You have a reputation, you have money, you have a strong secret army, and you have the transcendent knights of the family's remnants.
With your reputation and legality, in the entire Thousand River Valley, with a wave of your arm, they can respond in droves."
"But that's only in the four counties of the plains." Duke D'Arnais said with a wry smile, "Those people in the five counties of the mountains have long stopped listening to me, and many of them even think I'm a lackey of the Church."
"But aren't you afraid that the Church will attack you? When you are accused of rebellion by the Church, you better really want to rebel!"
After being reprimanded by Horn, Duke D'Arnais's expression didn't show any joy or anger. After a long time, he raised his head as if he had made up his mind:
"Okay, I should indeed cheer up, I, I've decided... or I'll think about it again."
"Okay." Horn was a little speechless by Duke D'Arnais, but he still nodded reluctantly, "I hope you can make a choice as soon as possible. You know, Duke Hemasite will probably be very interested in this too."