Chapter 62: Varangian Guards
Chapter 62: Varangian Guards
Jorgklusburg, within the Lord’s Hall.
The main doors were suddenly thrown open. Castellan Leonard hurried in and took his seat, the evening breeze he brought in causing the lamplights to flicker, casting elongated, distorted shadows from the long benches behind each person qualified to be present.
On a long rectangular table in the center of the hall, a feast of fine food and wine was already laid out. Lothar sat upon the lord’s throne at the head, a giant single-headed eagle escutcheon above him, the eagle’s wings spread perfectly behind him.
The aroma of roast lamb, cheese, and wine was tantalizingly tempting. But no one raised their knives or forks; they were all watching Lothar.
Lothar, seated on his lord’s throne, held up a paper bearing a red wax seal, displaying the King’s insignia to the assembly. "His Majesty the King’s summons has been issued. Everyone must arrive in Jerusalem within the stipulated time."
Hans’s expression was somewhat grim. "Milord, during this period, the development of our fief has gotten on track, and our strength is growing daily. But this is clearly not enough. As far as I know, Saladin commands an army of hundreds of thousands. With our current strength, it will be difficult to play a significant role in this battle."
The faces of the men were etched with worry. They couldn’t even imagine what hundreds of thousands looked like; it already surpassed their understanding of warfare.
Lothar shook his head. "It’s not as exaggerated as hundreds of thousands. Although Saladin has many troops, most are untrained conscripts. His elite core army numbers only ten to twenty thousand. What is claimed and what is actually possessed are two entirely different things. He also cannot possibly deploy his entire force to attack Jerusalem. The climate of the Holy Land cannot support an army of such a scale on a long expedition."