Act Three: The Laws of Engaging with the World (Part 8)

eight

“Brasov is a new city,” the man leading them said with a smile as he showed them the way. “Its name means crown. If you look down from the hill, the shape of the whole city resembles a king’s crown.”

Yakov nervously tugged at Yubi's arm and led the horse, wishing he had eyes in the back of his head to keep an eye on the two guards accompanying them. The guards wore leather armor and had swords at their waists; they didn't look like easy targets. Yakov thought it would be difficult for him to defeat both of them unscathed and then escape with his horse, which was too heavy to run.

“Our city defenses are very strong, and we can easily control the flow of people. We also plan to add more towers to the city walls,” the man continued. “These days are market days, and Tatars and Wallachians can enter the city to sell their goods after paying a pass. However, they are not allowed to enter the city at other times. This ensures the safety of the city.”

"Is your lord a Saxon?" Schumer asked. He didn't seem particularly uncomfortable.

“We have a permit from the King of Hungary.” The guide nodded. “When we first arrived, this place was barren. It was we Saxons who built this city.”

Yubi wanted to ask questions, but Yakov anticipated his recklessness, gripping his hand tightly and forcing him to swallow his words. They soon arrived at the towering wooden house in the center of town. Yubi looked up and saw the huge cross he had seen on the road being hoisted onto the roof by ropes—it turned out that this was not the lord's residence, but a church.

“The church is almost finished.” The man stopped there. “It will bring prosperity to this place. Pilgrims from all directions will gather here to offer their services to the Lord. This Christmas, Lord von Brunel will celebrate Mass here.”

Yakov was a little confused; his mind wasn't on this. He didn't understand why this man insisted on telling him all this. He glanced at Schumeer and saw Schumeer winking at him. But Yakov still didn't understand.

The guide didn't lead them into the church, but instead went around to the quiet back of the market. They stopped in front of a two-story house, above the door a deer head nailed to it, with beautiful, complete antlers extending from the lintel on either side. Yakov knew this was a symbol of nobility.

“Sir, our men will take good care of your horse and your servant’s donkey.” The guide gestured for the guard to take the reins from Yakov’s hand. “Please come in.”

“No.” Yakov’s heart leaped into his throat, and he finally spoke, “I’ll find a place myself.”

“My lord, please rest assured,” the guide said. “We will never allow the Knights’ property to be damaged in the slightest. Even if a single gold coin is lost from the chest, I will be punished by Lord von Brunel. My name is Conrad Green, and I swear by God.”

Yakov gasped in surprise, his mouth agape beneath his helmet. How did this man know about the gold coins? He hesitated for a moment, wanting to refuse, but Schumer shoved his arm hard. "..." He was momentarily speechless, then immediately pulled Schumer out from behind him. "Tell my squire to come with you," Yakov said.

From the moment he entered, Yubi couldn't stop looking around. It was a stone house, but far inferior to the castle where he had once lived. He wondered, could this really be considered a lord's residence? He and Yakov walked down a short corridor, which wasn't decorated with handicrafts and paintings, but rather with animal heads. Roe deer, muntjacs, antelopes, moose—it seemed this was a lord who enjoyed hunting. Guards stood solemnly at the door, telling him and Yakov to wait a moment.

“This house is a bit shabby,” Yubi asked in a low voice. “Is this really the lord’s house?”

Yakov ignored him.

There were sounds of arguing coming from inside the room, indistinct at first, then bursting into laughter. Yakov didn't understand German and had no idea what the people on the other side of the door were discussing. He anxiously wondered what he would do if the lord forced him to remove his helmet and confiscated his money. After a short while, the man who had led the way—Conrad Green—came down the corridor with Schumacher. He ordered the guards on either side to open the door.

"Why are you back?" Yakov grabbed Schumer and whispered, "What about the horse and the gold?"

“How will you deal with Lord von Brunel while I’m gone?” Schumacher shook him off. “Don’t worry, the horse and the gold are both fine.”

The door opened, revealing a small council chamber. A middle-aged man with a full beard sat in the main seat, flanked by a bishop and several courtiers with swords. Just then, a group of men dressed in black robes with white crosses emerged from another doorway—it was none other than Pascal Montfort and his soldiers. Their expressions were serious, as if they had just experienced something unpleasant. This resentment was directed directly at Yakov—who saw the young French knight glare at him and angrily lead his men past them. This left Yakov even more bewildered and suspicious.

All eyes were on the three of them. “Knighthood, Yakov,” Schumer whispered. “Kneel on your right knee and bow your head.”

Yakov reluctantly complied. He felt the helmet weigh down on his head like a thousand pounds. Yubi stood beside him and bowed as well, but this minor nobleman did not have to prostrate himself on the ground like Yakov; he simply bowed and stood upright in the center of the hall.

“The knight won’t remove his helmet or give his name,” said the middle-aged man. He seemed to be Lord von Brunel, his Latin as stiff as Conrad’s. “What’s the reason?”

Yakov closed his eyes. He had just come up with several plausible excuses at the door, but none of them made sense even to himself. Just as he was hesitating, Schumeer spoke up behind him. "Lord von Brunel. My master swore an oath when he joined the Order to never show his face to outsiders, to show his loyalty to God. There is an anecdote about this, which my master disliked to publicize, and it is not known to others."

"An anecdote?" Lord von Brunel exchanged glances with those around him. "May I have the honor of hearing it?"

“This is hardly a respectable or honorable matter,” Schumeer continued, elaborating. “Before joining the Order, my master was a knight under a lord. Here, to protect the lord’s reputation, I have to conceal their names and fiefdoms. As you know, a lord’s wife is obligated to provide knights with education in virtue and etiquette. As female role models, they always arouse the admiration of apprentice knights.”

“That’s true. And then?” The lord was clearly intrigued by the story, and he asked with wide eyes.

"However, the story that happened to my master is quite the opposite." Schumeer cleared his throat and continued his vivid description, "Perhaps because of my master's handsome face and noble character, the lady of the lord insisted on visiting my master's quarters in the castle one rainy night! My master was truly helpless to help, yet he could not shirk his responsibility. You know, this has always been a terrible crime for a knight, but also a noble ideal."

Hearing this, even Yubi turned around in surprise. He suddenly saw Pascal and his men standing opposite him, his handsome face flushed with anger for some reason, yet he dared not utter a single word.

"This is outrageous!" Lord von Brunel slapped his thigh, spitting out saliva from between his beard. "A wanton and unfaithful woman!"

Yakov also found it utterly absurd and almost laughed. But he remained kneeling on the ground, motionless, waiting for Schumeer to continue his nonsense.

"After this happened, the lady visited again and again, which exhausted my master both physically and mentally, causing him to grow thinner day by day. My master had no choice but to confess to the priest and seek a solution. The priest inquired about God's will and told my master the way to salvation: only by joining the holy war and leaving this place could he atone for his sins. And to prevent sins from continuing, he had to cover his face with a helmet so that no outsider could see him and thus avoid disaster. So my master packed his bags, donated all his possessions, and with the lord's help, joined the Knights Templar and lived the life of a monk."

“Poor thing, may that woman get what she deserves!” said Lord von Brunel with a sigh. “Get up, I forgive your rudeness. It is God’s will.”

Yakov felt utterly bewildered, as if he were in a dream from which he couldn't wake; the whole thing was utterly absurd. A city lord, with just a fabricated joke and a few words, had easily let him escape punishment. But at the same time, he secretly admired Schumeer's audacity. "Thank you for your forgiveness," he said softly, rising from the ground.

"You have a good servant," the lord said, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned back in his chair. "And who is the other one?"

“Lord von Brunel, I come from the Noctenias family, and I am my mother’s youngest son.” Yubi immediately gave his name, puffing out his chest proudly, the brooch on his fur cloak gleaming. “My name is Yubi.”

He had expected the surname to impress people. To his surprise, the lord showed no reaction. The middle-aged man looked around in confusion, but everyone shook their heads, indicating they had never heard of it. "Yubi, a strange name, perhaps better suited for a daughter," he said with a smile. "Let me guess, your family doesn't have enough fiefdom, so they sent you to the Knights Templar for an apprenticeship, is that right? And I heard you spent about ten gold coins at the bathhouse in my territory today, and the girls were overjoyed."

The people in the hall burst into laughter, making Yubi lower his head in embarrassment, and he didn't even have the will to refute.

"Alright, let's get down to business. I'm not one to waste time." Lord von Brunel adjusted his posture, his expression subtly excited. "There's a saying that the Knights Templar keep several times more IOUs and ledgers than scriptures. Knight, tell me, is that true?"

Yakov was puzzled and perplexed by the question. How did he know these things, and what was the person asking the question's intention? "This is slander, sir," he could only utter these few words.

"Then what are you doing bringing such a large amount of money to Brasov?"

Yakov didn't know how to answer, and racked his brains. He remembered that Schumacher had once given him a reason…

“We’ve come here to establish a new stronghold for the Knights,” Yakov said in a low voice beneath his helmet, trying to make his voice sound steady and believable. “The money will be used to provide circulation for the traveling pilgrims…”

He doubted whether his words had been too blunt and foolish. But a smile instantly bloomed on the lord's face, causing the bishop standing beside him to shake his head repeatedly. "My lord," the bishop advised, "Brasov needs monasteries and hospitals more than IOUs and ledgers. Money and pleasures can be addictive, causing people to lose their faith!"

“Brasov has already built a new church, isn’t that enough?” The lord waved his hand. “We are more in need of money.”

In an instant, everything became clear. Why the lord had summoned them, why Conrad had repeatedly described the city's safety and beauty, why Pascal and the Hospitallers had been called to stand together in the hall for a meeting, why Schumeer kept giving him meaningful glances and even dared to fabricate stories—Yakov realized that everyone was after the gold. This money might cause unnecessary trouble, but it could also solve their immediate problems. He heard Schumeer exhale with satisfaction behind him, then turned to look at Pascal's expression. The Hospitaller's green eyes were wide open, as if condemning him for coming to this place—even the vague hostility from their encounter at the blacksmith shop suddenly became clear.

"You've seen the market in Brasov," Lord von Brunel asked Yakov with a smile. "What do you think of the city?"

“Brasov is a good place,” Yakov said, frowning under his helmet. “But we haven’t made a decision yet.”

The lord then spoke with the other courtiers in German, as if trying to hide his conversation. Yakov looked at Pascal's face again. The Hospitaller looked like he had just suffered a defeat; even the lepers behind him were whispering words of comfort. At that moment, Schumeer joined Yakov. "No wonder he came with a bunch of bandaged men. Who brings a group of patients to a financial business instead of a chest of gold coins? He wants to build a hospital," Schumeer muttered. "An idealistic young man. If the lord were twenty years younger, he might still have a chance."

“I never intended to take out a loan here,” Yakov growled in a low voice. “What do we do now?”

“What’s wrong with that? What else are you planning to do?” Schumeer nudged him with his elbow again. “Burial money in the ground, or lend it to someone to do business? The latter can even save someone from a fire.”

Yakov remained silent. He thought that if he truly had no idea, leaving some of the gold coins he couldn't take with him here wouldn't be a bad alternative, but he was always suspicious that things weren't as simple as Schumeer thought. The lord quickly ended the discussion, then summoned Conrad, spoke a few words in German, waved his hand, and then left his seat, turning and disappearing into the inner room.

Pascal approached Yakov. The young knight had lost his edge, but a more sublime superiority had arisen within him. "I will not condemn this behavior, nor will I condone your lie. However, as fellow servants of God, I hope your conscience will withstand God's test," he said lightly, glancing at Yubi's face with narrowed eyes before leaving the council chamber with his soldiers.

Yakov watched them go, feeling lost and bewildered. He kept his mouth shut in silence. Yubi, standing beside him, blushed like a cherry, clearly mocked.