Medieval Gacha Lord-Chapter 75: The Feint

Chapter 75: The Feint

"May the Heavenly Father forgive their sins in this life, wash away their shame, and grant them glorious ascension to Heaven." Lothar made the sign of the cross before himself.

He wasn’t a ruthless man. Towards armed enemies, he could be merciless, because mercy towards the enemy was irresponsibility towards his own life and those of his subordinates.

Ruthlessness was mercy upon yourself.

Towards bandits who slaughtered the weak and robbed civilians, he could also sentence them to death without batting an eye. But these men, in all fairness, hadn’t actually committed such unforgivable crimes.

When Lothar was a corporate slave in his previous life, he couldn’t guarantee he didn’t slack off during work hours either.

But strict punishments and harsh laws had, since ancient times, been key to controlling an army.

If Lothar had no men, no soldiers, and no unconditional trust from Baldwin IV, and he dared to act this way, he might have ended up utterly isolated, deserted by all. Because these executed knights and squires all had their comrades-in-arms and brothers within the Knightly Order. They would hate him for this, perhaps even seek opportunities to assassinate him, then unify their story and blame it on retaliation from the Hashashins.

But he had his own personal troops. Unless everyone in the Royal Knights united to openly rebel, they couldn’t do anything to Lothar.

After strict punishment, gentle persuasion must follow.

Knights, after all, were a quasi-noble class, equivalent to an army’s officer stratum; they couldn’t be suppressed one-sidedly but required a combination of kindness and severity.

This was far more effective than simple pressure or bestowing favors like Count Philip did. Mere small favors could never make an army feel indebted enough to be unquestionably loyal and follow commands with perfect ease.

Lothar’s method of applying kindness and punishment was actually very simple: distribute money. Even the most sublime morals had to bow before wealth. The endless stream of knights that chose to cross the harsh mountains and the turbulent seas from the West to reach the elusive Jerusalem—wasn’t their true pursuit ultimately... well wealth and fiefs?

Lothar witnessed the end of the execution and turned to leave. Count Philip pushed his way through the crowd, gritting his teeth. "Baron Lothar, they never even expected anyone to attack the Crown Prince, yet you took their lives!"

Lothar looked down at him from a superior position and said coldly, "Count Philip, you have been released without charge. But you must know, this was a compromise made without a trial by the Great Council, a procedural injustice. I have the right to arrest you again at any time."

Count Philip laughed miserably. "Heh, even if I had been tried, my outcome wouldn’t have been any worse than this."

"Is that so?" Lothar chuckled lightly. "Lord Philip, how many men do you have left now? To the Nobles’ Party or the Queen Mother’s Party, who once tried to win you over, how much value do you still possess? Is it truly enough for them to use their influence to preserve your official rank and your life?"

Philip was stunned. Nobles were realistic people. He had few kinsmen by marriage in the Holy Land; without benefits, why would they speak for him?

Lothar said respectfully, "Count Philip, do you know where you went wrong?"

Philip looked astonished.

"The Royal Knights only permit the King’s Party to exist."

Gazing at Lothar’s retreating back, Count Philip’s expression was ashen. He said to his servant, "Let’s go. We return to our fief in Saxony."

"Milord, are we just going back like this? We can’t take anything back. The wealth His Majesty the King bestowed upon you has long since been squandered."

"That’s right! We return just like this, full of humiliation and penniless!" He gritted his teeth. "But sooner or later, I will return, as the Duke of Saxony’s uncle! The House of Welf will, like Godfrey of Bouillon and Bohemond of Taranto, carve out a new, unconquerable kingdom here!"

He cracked his whip and shouted, "Giddyup!"

He had to admit, an evil thought had just crossed his mind: that Jerusalem would be lost at the hands of these people, and he, along with that nephew of his known as the "Lion," would recapture this city and become the saviors of all Christendom!

***

In the great hall of the council, Count Raynald’s piercing voice echoed: "This was a despicable murder! Those damned Saracens! They have finally torn off their disguise and revealed their hideous true faces!"

This former Duke of Antioch, who harbored a deep-seated, unforgettable pain inflicted by the infidels, clenched his fists. "War! We need a war! The weak Greeks have already made peace with Saladin! The Western Kings are still vying for power and profit in the city states! No one will come to help us, and no one is a truly reliable reinforcement!"

"For the honor of knights and the will of God, we must proactively declare war on the Saracens! Our army will be like a sacred spear, piercing the enemy’s heart!"

Count Raynald’s impassioned speech elicited a hall full of cheers. "Saracens" was also a general term for Zoroastrians, making no distinction between Persians, Kurds, Egyptians, and other such peoples, just as "Franks" was a general term for Gauls, Germans, English, and a series of other European peoples.

Proclaiming the evil of infidels and the honor and courage of knights was, in this era, a politically correct statement.

Although Lothar felt that anyone would know one shouldn’t march out from the meticulously constructed Crusader fortresses under the blazing sun to fight the infidels’ main army, this didn’t stop them from saying so and branding anyone who dared to suggest holding fast to the castles and letting Saladin’s army plunder the villages as a good-for-nothing coward and a traitor colluding with infidels.

This also made Lothar swallow back the "scorched earth" policy he had originally intended to propose. One only had to think about it to know that these stupid and short-sighted nobles simply wouldn’t have the daring to make such a choice.

Thus, Lothar became a mere sculpture in this Great Council session. He was merely calculating that Sa’d al-Din leading a large army south seemed to be advantageous for King as-Salih and Abdullah to stir up trouble in the north.

Just then, someone, dust-covered, rushed into the great hall, shouting loudly, "Lord Tiberias! Sa’d al-Din, the Governor of Syria, leading tens of thousands of troops, has already breached Roche Castle, and is advancing on Tripoli!"

Count Raymond’s face changed slightly. The entire great hall erupted into an even greater clamor. The northern part of the Kingdom of Jerusalem was almost entirely the territory of Count Raymond and his vassals. Without the position of Regent, he was still the sovereign of the County of Tripoli, but if he lost the territory of Tripoli, he might not necessarily remain Regent.

Not everyone was as lucky as Count Raynald, who, after losing the title of Duke of Antioch, could still manage to become Count of Oultrejordain through marriage. Many in the Queen Mother’s Party secretly hoped that this Count of Tripoli would, as a result, lead his followers north to resist the enemy’s invasion. That way, Jerusalem would belong exclusively to them.

"That is merely a feint." Regent Raymond’s tone was very calm. "The Saracen navy is no match for the fleets of the Knightly Orders and Tripoli. Even if they besiege Tripoli, they cannot breach that strong city in a short time. Saladin’s true target has always been Jerusalem. They have only these two routes to take if they wish to claim the Holy Land: Egypt and Oultrejordain. He wouldn’t choose to advance from north."

The former primarily threatened Baron Godfrey’s lands, the latter, Count Raynald’s. The climate of the Holy Land dictated the duration for which an army could undertake a long expedition. For Saladin to attack from the north, there were simply too many fortified cities and strongholds to overcome; it was clearly illogical.

Despite this, Lothar still felt a sense of admiration; this Count Raymond was by no means a mediocre man. To remain calm when the foundation of his own safety and position was under attack was not something an ordinary person could achieve.

Count Raynald shouted, "Then all the more reason to seize this opportunity and devour this main enemy force! In the north, it’s close to the Hospitallers’ city of Acre and the Knight Templars’ Castle! We can quickly assemble an elite force of five hundred heavy cavalry! We will ensure these infidels come but never return!"

"Yes, to war!" People shouted one after another. Even among Raymond’s Nobles’ Party, many believed they should fight, especially the lord of Roche, who were clamoring to immediately retake his fief.

Count Raymond was silent for a moment. He said, "I must request His Majesty’s opinion. If he agrees for us to go north to meet the enemy, then we shall dispatch troops."

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