The Court’s promotion ceremony for this group of apprentice knights was simpler than their enfeoffment, but as the liege lord of these Court Guard Knights, Marquis Ivrea of Burgundy County personally sat on the iron throne in the great hall to attend the promotion ceremony.
Art and six other apprentice knights stood in the Court’s great hall, while five other knights who had been severely wounded but performed meritorious deeds were represented by their squires carrying their heraldic banners. A Court herald used a silver-plated pair of scissors to trim the swallowtails from the heraldic banners of the twelve apprentice knights. The twelve newly promoted knights knelt before the Marquis and, led by the herald, swore allegiance to Marquis Ivrea. The Marquis personally bestowed a pair of iron spurs upon each new knight, and then the Court scribe, in front of all the Court dignitaries and ministers in the hall, read out the enfeoffment of fiefs to the seven new knights.
In the evening, the Court held a banquet for the twelve, but the Marquis and most of the powerful ministers and nobles did not attend. On one hand, the main characters of this dinner were merely a group of minor knights, not worthy of their personal attendance. On the other hand, the Court’s grandees were currently troubled by the war in the Eastern Regions and simply had no energy for it.
Art only showed his face at the banquet with Ron and Angus before leaving, because Sir Dean, who had become Art’s mortal enemy, constantly caused trouble for Art. He had many “friends” in the Court, and naturally, many minor nobles echoed Dean in isolating Art.
The next morning, the Court scribe sent someone to Art’s camp to deliver the enfeoffment documents for the Court Guard Knight and the knight’s fief, signed by Marquis Ivrea. After receiving the documents, Art went to bid farewell to Lord Deputy of the Court, Earl Baldwin, and then set off for Lucerne with a dozen cavalrymen.
“My Lord, that fellow Dean is constantly making things difficult for you. When we return to Tinietz, we must find an opportunity to beat that Bastard to death,” Ron said to Art, who was riding ahead, on the way to Lucerne.
Art replied indifferently, “What’s the use of beating him up? I’ll make him remember the name Art forever, unforgettable.”
“Sir, you didn’t see how Dean looked like he wanted to tear us apart. If he hadn’t known we had a dozen elite Soldiers, he probably would have dared to lead troops to storm the camp.” Since Art’s promotion to Knight, Angus had changed his address for Art.
“Sergeant, I’m not afraid of him pouncing like a wolf. After all, I’m a Knight now, and he doesn’t have the guts to kill a newly promoted noble with a title for no reason. But a wolf is easy to guard against, a venomous snake is hard to avoid. We’ve been venomous snakes, so we know the danger of venomous snakes,” Art replied coldly.
“Are you saying they might set a trap for you? Or deal with you in secret?”
“It’s possible. Since he could collude with the guild to detain our caravan’s goods, he might do even more malicious things—especially since I’ve already become his sworn enemy.”
“Then should we make the first move?” Angus raised his hand and made a throat-slitting gesture.
“Not yet. Don’t do these things without absolute certainty. We are not in enemy territory now, and our every move will be constrained by royal law.” Art rejected Angus’s suggestion because he was now a Knight and had to have a bottom line, and this was not enemy territory, so there were constraints everywhere.
“The best way to defeat an enemy is to make yourself stronger than the enemy. You two, always remember this…” As Art spoke, he lightly squeezed his horse’s belly, and the warhorse beneath him sensed its master’s intention, slowly quickening its gallop.
The group arrived in Lucerne on the afternoon of the day they left Besançon and stayed overnight at an inn in the north of the city.
The next morning, Art brought Ron to Hvorof Cathedral. Art did not go directly into the church to meet Bishop Olov. Instead, he first found the deacon in charge of holy donations and offerings, declared his identity, and then donated a huge sum of five thousand fenny to the church. He specifically instructed the deacon to only report this matter to Bishop Olov after he had left the church.
With everything settled, Art, accompanied by Ron and religious guards, arrived at Bishop Olov’s office. Bishop Olov’s guards were already quite familiar with Art. He kept asking Art about the war in the Eastern Regions, clearly also a fellow who hoped to achieve meritorious deeds on the battlefield.
Upon seeing Art, Bishop Olov’s face was as kind as ever, and his complexion became increasingly rosy.
Olov helped Art, who was half-kneeling on the ground, to his feet, and with his hands on Art’s shoulders, he examined Art up and down, smiling as he said, “Very good! To be able to return here completely intact from the battlefield.”
“Bishop, it was the Lord’s radiance that protected me, otherwise I would have died long ago from the enemy’s crossbow bolts,” Art said, then pulled out the cross that Bishop Olov had given him, which hung around his neck.
“Hmm, yes, I already know about your heroic deeds in enemy territory from your letter. Although many of your actions did not adhere to the traditional morality of a Knight, when dealing with a wolf, a clever hunter will never fight it face to face.”
“Child, you must always remember, you must learn to be half a saint and half a demon. Treat your enemies as fiercely as a demon, and treat your allies as kindly as a saint.” Bishop Olov was a man who had returned from the Holy Land. He knew that Art’s combat methods were learned from infidels. Olov was not a pedantic saint, so he was not offended by Art’s endless “schemes” when dealing with enemies.
“I will remember that!” Art nodded heavily.
“Hmm, That's right, this time did the Court reward you for your merits? I haven’t received the Court’s official gazette yet.” Bishop Olov had always been concerned about the issue of Art’s military merits and rewards. In order to prevent Art, who had no backing, from having his achievements overshadowed by the powerful ministers of the Court, he twice wrote to Lord Deputy of the Court, Earl Baldwin, hoping that he could help Art secure fair treatment. It was precisely because of Art’s outstanding military achievements combined with Bishop Olov’s specific instructions that Earl Baldwin tried his best to fight for Art in the Court deliberations, even though this favor was intertwined with the struggle between Baldwin and Bernal, two powerful figures.
Art told Bishop Olov, who had not yet received the official gazette from Besançon Court, that he had obtained a Knight status and two knight fiefs.
“I didn’t expect the power struggles in the Court to be so intense now that a meritorious warrior can’t even receive the most basic fair treatment.” Bishop Olov still felt regret and indignation that Art had not been enfeoffed with a decent knight fief.
“You will eventually have to return to that dense forest and desolate valley, but are you sure you can build that place into a true knightdom?” Olov still felt a hint of worry about Art’s plan, because Olov had no idea of the current situation in that desolate valley.
“Bishop, my father’s bones are buried in that desolate valley. Where the Wells Family fell, I, Art, will rise!” Art said firmly.
Bishop Olov looked at Art’s determined eyes, made the sign of the cross on his chest, and after a long moment, asked, “Child, can I still offer you any help?”
“Bishop, thank you for your generosity. Besides reporting my current situation and personally thanking you for helping me several times, I do have two more things I wish to ask of you.” Art did not want to be evasive in front of his father’s close friend; he knew that Bishop Olov was truly willing to help him.
“Child, speak. If I can help, I will do my utmost,” Olov said.
“First, I now have my own knightly territory, and there are some farmers and Soldiers in my territory. They live with me in the wild lands and very much hope that God’s light can penetrate the dense forest and desolate valley to illuminate every saint who believes in him. Therefore, I plan to build a small chapel for the Lord God in my knightly territory, but I need a parish priest who is willing to shepherd the saints for God. If not, even a clergyman who can spread the gospel of my Lord in my territory would be good.” Art planned to build a small chapel in the valley, and rather than having the church forcibly assign clergy later, he preferred to proactively request the church to assign them.
Bishop Olov dedicated his life to spreading the gospel of God, and he would absolutely not refuse such a proactive request to seek religious protection for the saints.
“This is a good deed for spreading God’s gospel, and I will definitely help you with this. What is the second matter you wish to discuss?” Olov asked.
“Bishop, regarding the detention of my caravan in Besançon last time, I presume you already know…”
Art explained in detail to Bishop Olov his plan to earn money through trade to develop his territory and support his army, and clarified the biggest problem his caravan currently faced. He proposed that he hoped the church behind Bishop Olov could support his caravan, and in return, Art was willing to donate one-twentieth of the caravan’s profits as church property income, to be used for building churches, spreading the gospel, and relieving the faithful.
The second matter was not something Bishop Olov could decide with a single word. Bishop Olov hesitated somewhat, but he eventually agreed to carefully consider the second matter Art proposed.
They talked for a long time in Bishop Olov’s office, until nearly noon, when Art finally left the church with a letter personally written by Bishop Olov, and took the letter to Selanke Fu Monastery…
…………
“What? Why me?” In Selanke Fu Monastery, Monk Hamish, who was wiping the floor in the Holy Chapel, immediately refused when he learned that the Abbot of the Monastery was sending him to a small chapel in a desolate valley that had been abandoned for hundreds of years to spread the gospel.
The clergyman delivering the order glanced at the man in front of him with disgust and said, “Why? Because you’re only half a saint!”
This monk, called “half a saint,” was Hamish Matthew, twenty-five years old. His father was once a merchant, and his pagan mother died in childbirth while giving birth to him. His father could not accept this little demon who took his mother’s life at birth, believing that this little Bastard was God’s punishment for him. So Hamish was thrown into a Monastery by his father when he was five years old. Since then, his father never appeared again, and he didn’t know if his father was dead or alive, but he didn’t care.
Hamish, who grew up in the Monastery, did not become a devout saint. He was not a well-behaved child from a young age, always doing mischievous and unruly things when he was little, like cutting monks’ hair or stealing holy food. Not only did he like to tease confessing saints, but he also often ran to the nunnery to peek at nuns changing clothes. In these twenty years, he had stayed in five or six Monasteries (churches), but no Monastery could tolerate him for more than three years.
However, Hamish had a talent: he could read the Bible fluently at twelve and by sixteen, he could recite the entire Bible and write beautiful Latin. It was precisely for this reason that so many Monasteries (churches) were willing to hold their noses and take this fellow in.
Selanke Fu Monastery was the only place he had stayed for more than three years, because the former Abbot of the Monastery, now Bishop Olov of Lusesen Diocese, was a very tolerant person. He saw Hamish’s extraordinary talent for the Bible, magnanimously tolerated his shortcomings, and promoted him to deacon shortly after Hamish arrived at the Monastery.
However, after Bishop Olov was promoted to Diocesan Bishop, the newly appointed Abbot of the Monastery was not so polite to this fellow. Last week, after Hamish secretly ran to a hidden tavern in the city, got drunk, and was carried back to the Monastery, the new Abbot locked him up for two full weeks, and then punished him by making him kneel in front of the holy statue and wipe the floor for a month. Such things were commonplace for Hamish; he had grown used to them.
However, when he heard that the Abbot of the Monastery planned to send him to a small chapel in a dense forest valley in the southern border of Burgundy County that had been desolate for hundreds of years to be a clergyman, he instinctively refused. Although his life in the Monastery was not easy now, at least he had food and clothing and no worries about his life.
Immediately, he left the Holy Hall and ran to the Abbot’s office, intending to argue.
The Abbot of the Monastery received Hamish quite rarely and patiently advised him, “Hamish, this is Bishop Olov’s wish. He said that our Monastery should select a young monk with profound knowledge and extraordinary talent to accompany a Knight to his territory to spread the gospel of the Lord and bring the light of the Lord into the darkness. Among all the young monks in the Monastery, whose knowledge is more profound than yours? So, after consultation between me and the elders, we decided to send you.”
Hamish, of course, would not agree. Having grown up in the Monastery since childhood, he had little reverence or fondness for these fellows shrouded in holy light. He knew with his toes that the Abbot and the elders wanted to use this opportunity to drive him out of the Monastery and rid the Monastery of a scourge.
“Abbot, you said this is Bishop Olov’s wish, but did Bishop Olov specifically name me to go?” Hamish would not be so easily fooled.
“You!”
“Even if the Bishop didn’t say it explicitly, can’t I and the elders in the Monastery decide?” The Abbot was somewhat annoyed.
“No! When the Bishop left the Monastery, he instructed me to diligently study the Bible and comprehend the holy will. I haven’t yet grasped the essence of the Bible, so I cannot leave here.” Hamish began to play the rogue.
The Abbot of the Monastery was somewhat at a loss with this fellow. After holding it in for a long time, he still swallowed his anger and took out the prepared “candy,” saying, “The elders and I have also discussed it. If you are willing to go there, we will promote you to parish priest! A twenty-five-year-old parish priest, this is a miracle.”
This “candy” was tempting enough for Hamish…
Ultimately, Hamish agreed to the Monastery’s arrangement and consented to become a parish priest in that knightly territory.
